"I tell you to stop!" "Not much!" thought Frank.

"I won't stop! If you catch me your wind is better than I think it is." He did not dare go into his house, so he dashed past, cut into another street, turned corner after corner, and still he found himself pursued.
It seemed marvelous that Professor Grant could keep up such a pace.
Finally the pursuer called: "Merriwell, is that you ?" No answer.
"I know you," declared the pursuer, and now Frank perceived that that voice did not sound like Professor Grant.

"You are a crackajack runner.
I wanted to give you a try to see what you could do.

I'll see you to-morrow.

Good-night." The pursuer gave up the chase.
"As I live, I believe it was Pierson, manager of the ball team!" muttered Frank when he was sure it was no trick and he was no longer followed.