“Yes,” she said, “I believe it will make me feel better.”
So, a little later, they were walking together, her gloved hand resting on his arm. The white moon looked down at them and smiled, while the knowing little stars winked wisely at each other.
Frank’s heart was strangely full. Still, something sealed his lips.
“This is our street,” said Inza, as they turned down the old familiar way. “You know we used to live down here a short distance?”
“I wish you were living here now, Inza, and that I was a cadet at the academy.”
“Would you like to live the old days over, Frank?”
“Would I? They were the happiest days of my life!”
They came to the old home, and paused where they could see it as revealed by the moonlight.
“It needs repairing,” she said sadly. “I hear it is for sale. The people who lived here have moved away, and it is empty.”
“Oh, do!” she cried. “That would be just splendid!”
“Would you like to live here again, Inza?”
“Nothing in this wide world could make me happier!”
Her head drooped. After a moment she murmured:
“Here is the old gate,” he said, drawing her toward it. “Don’t you remember a certain evening years ago when we stood here by the gate?”
“I shall never forget it!” she declared, slipping from him and passing through to the other side. “I was in here and you out there, just as we are now.”
“And it was a beautiful moonlight night, but the trees had leaves on them and cast a shadow here, so the moon could not see what happened that night.”
She laughed, in spite of the fact that her heart was beating very fast.
“Inza,” he went on, “you were my sweetheart then, and now I know I have loved you ever since. Inza, dearest, do you love me? Will you marry me when I leave college?”
The moment had come. She felt herself shaking all over. Her voice was not steady as she asked in a very low tone:
“Are you certain, Frank, that you love me more than any one else in the world—more than Elsie?”
“I have not the least doubt of it. I know now that I have always loved you more than any one in the world.”
There being no baffling leaves on the trees, the delighted old moon this time saw what it had failed to see one moonlight evening over that gate years ago.
No. 70 of the MERRIWELL SERIES, entitled “Frank Merriwell’s False Friend,” by Burt L. Standish, has a thrilling boat race in which Frank helps his side to victory in spite of the efforts of his false friend to keep him out of the race.