“I am glad I was able to warn you, Mr. Merriwell.” “It may prove a most fortunate thing for me. I thank you, Miss Blaney. I shall not forget your kindness.” He held out his hand, and she grasped it eagerly, looking up into his face. “Oh, Mr. Merriwell!” she exclaimed; “I hope you’ll not think of me as so very bad! I hope you won’t remember me that way!” “No,” he said, looking straight into her eyes; “I shall not think of you that way, Miss Blaney. I shall think of you as the joy of your mother in her old age. I shall think of you as loving and soothing her in her declining years. I hope I shall not be mistaken in my thoughts.” “You shall not!” she said, earnestly; “I promise you that, Frank Merriwell! I will be a better girl in the future. It will help me to be better knowing you remember me that way. Good-by.” She turned hurriedly and was gone. CHAPTER XVII. PLAIN WORDS. The entire company seemed in high spirits that night as the time approached for the curtain to rise on the opening scene of the first act. People were pouring into the theater. Every seat had been sold, and the sign “S. R. O.” was displayed at the box office. “Methinks this settles it,” spouted Douglas Dunton, behind the curtain. “Prosperity has struck us hard, and we are winners from the word ‘go.’ Oh, this whole company is hot stuff!” The orchestra began to play, and Frank, made up for his first appearance, came to the peephole and looked out at the audience. Every seat in the Wilcoxson Opera House was filled. The rear of the theater was packed with those who had paid admission for the privilege of standing. “By gum! it’s a sight fer sore eyes!” exclaimed Ephraim Gallup, close to Frank. “Don’t yeou think so?” Frank did not reply, for he was searching the faces of those in the rows near the stage, looking for Sam Hooker. “There he is!” Merry muttered the words as his eyes rested on the ruffian. Sam had secured a seat where he could easily accomplish his purpose, as he fancied. There was a look of fierce determination on his countenance. After looking at the fellow some moments, Merry said: “He’ll try it!” “What the dickens are yeou talkin’ abaout, Frank?” asked Gallup. Merriwell straightened up. “Ephraim,” he said, “go find Mr. Garland and bring him to me.” “All right.” The Vermonter hurried away, soon returning with Granville Garland. “Great fortune, Mr. Merriwell!” exclaimed Garland. “That’s the sort of a house that pays. It strikes me we are forging to the front with great strides.” “Mr. Garland,” said Frank, “have you the revolver you draw on me in the first act?” “Yes.” “Let me take it.” Garland, wondering a little, passed the weapon to Merry. Immediately Frank took some cartridges from his pocket, snapped the weapon open, and—— “What are you doing?” exclaimed Garland, in perplexity. “The revolver was loaded, Mr. Merriwell.” “With blanks.” “Of course.”