“What’s the matter with him?” asked Bart. “Is he crazy?” “He’s quite lost his head over Inza.” “I thought that was about the size of it.” “That was the cause of all the trouble in the first place. He fell to hovering round Inza, and paying her attention. She never encouraged him in the least, for she is no flirt. Of course she treated him well, for we are in his sister’s home. When Frank appeared he was jealous. That’s what led on to that affair at the road house.” “Well, he’d better not fool with Frank Merriwell, for he’ll regret it if he does. Frank will not harm him unless forced into it. What has he been doing lately?” “Just watching constantly to get a look at Inza. He’s quite lost his senses over her. And he drinks, too, Bart. He seems to be full almost all the time. He actually proposed to Inza the night he returned here, forcing her to listen to him.” “Oh, he did, eh?” “Yes.” “She wrote Frank nothing of it.” “No, for she knew it would do no good, and she did not wish to make trouble. She has been thinking he might get over his unreasoning infatuation, but I think he grows worse and worse every day.” “Inza will soon be Mrs. Merriwell, and that will settle Mr. Fillmore.” He led Elsie back to her seat amid the pillows, taking care to see that she was perfectly comfortable. “There, little girl!” he laughed, his eyes shining as he looked at her; “there you are. I’ve been a scoundrel! What you need is the right kind of a doctor, and I’m the doctor! You never let me know you were more than a trifle indisposed. Why should you be ill? It’s all nonsense! Sweetheart, we’ll have the color back to your cheeks in short order. Oh, yes we will!” She smiled on him. “You’re so encouraging, Bart, dear!” she breathed. “Truly you make me feel better.” “I hope to make you feel so well that you’ll agree to carry out the plan we have spoken of so many times. Are you willing to see Frank and Inza reach the consummation of their happiness and leave us behind?” “I have to be willing,” she said. “We must wait, Bart, dear.” “I’ve waited so long, Elsie—so long!” he exclaimed, in a low tone that was deep with feeling. “And now the time has come. Elsie, my own, why do you put it off?” “Because I feel that it is right.” He had her hand imprisoned in his. She was leaning against one of his strong arms and looking up into his dark eyes, where she saw a world of tenderness and devotion. “Don’t you love me the same as you did?” he asked anxiously. “What a foolish question, you big, silly boy! I love you more than ever before. You don’t understand—you don’t know how much I love you!” He thrilled as he heard her speak these words with lips that knew not insincerity or deceit. He had trusted her fully, completely, and he was certain she trusted him in the same degree. Between them there was no shadow of doubt, for “love cannot dwell with suspicion.”