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Building Java Programs 3rd Edition Reges Test Bank pdf download

The document provides links to various test banks and solution manuals for different editions of textbooks, primarily focused on programming and other academic subjects. It includes sample exam questions related to Java programming concepts, such as array manipulation, inheritance, file processing, and class design. Additionally, it features a section on creating a Caterpillar class for a critter simulation with specific movement behaviors.

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100% found this document useful (1 vote)
4 views

Building Java Programs 3rd Edition Reges Test Bank pdf download

The document provides links to various test banks and solution manuals for different editions of textbooks, primarily focused on programming and other academic subjects. It includes sample exam questions related to Java programming concepts, such as array manipulation, inheritance, file processing, and class design. Additionally, it features a section on creating a Caterpillar class for a critter simulation with specific movement behaviors.

Uploaded by

rachahcressy
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
Available Formats
Download as PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
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Sample Final Exam #8
(Summer 2009; thanks to Victoria Kirst)

1. Array Mystery
Consider the following method:
public static void arrayMystery(int[] a) {
for (int i = 1; i < a.length - 1; i++) {
a[i] = a[i + 1] + a[i - 1];
}
}
Indicate in the right-hand column what values would be stored in the array after the method arrayMystery executes
if the integer array in the left-hand column is passed as a parameter to it.
Original Contents of Array Final Contents of Array
int[] a1 = {3, 7};
arrayMystery(a1); _____________________________

int[] a2 = {4, 7, 4, 2, 10, 9};


arrayMystery(a2); _____________________________

int[] a3 = {1, 5, 0, 0, 5, 0};


arrayMystery(a3); _____________________________

int[] a4 = {13, 0, -4, -2, 0, -1};


arrayMystery(a4); _____________________________

int[] a5 = {2, 4, 6, 8, 16};


arrayMystery(a5); _____________________________

1 of 8
2. Reference Semantics Mystery
(Missing; we didn't give this type of question that quarter.)

3. Inheritance Mystery
Assume that the following classes have been defined:

public class Denny extends John { public class Michelle extends John {
public void method1() { public void method1() {
System.out.print("denny 1 "); System.out.print("michelle 1 ");
} }
}
public String toString() {
return "denny " + super.toString(); public class John extends Cass {
} public void method2() {
} method1();
System.out.print("john 2 ");
public class Cass { }
public void method1() {
System.out.print("cass 1 "); public String toString() {
} return "john";
}
public void method2() { }
System.out.print("cass 2 ");
}

public String toString() {


return "cass";
}
}

Given the classes above, what output is produced by the following code?
Cass[] elements = {new Cass(), new Denny(), new John(), new Michelle()};
for (int i = 0; i < elements.length; i++) {
elements[i].method1();
System.out.println();
elements[i].method2();
System.out.println();
System.out.println(elements[i]);
System.out.println();
}

2 of 8
4. File Processing
Write a static method called runningSum that accepts as a parameter a Scanner holding a sequence of real numbers
and that outputs the running sum of the numbers followed by the maximum running sum. In other words, the nth
number that you report should be the sum of the first n numbers in the Scanner and the maximum that you report
should be the largest such value that you report. For example if the Scanner contains the following data:
3.25 4.5 -8.25 7.25 3.5 4.25 -6.5 5.25

your method should produce the following output:


running sum = 3.25 7.75 -0.5 6.75 10.25 14.5 8.0 13.25
max sum = 14.5
The first number reported is the same as the first number in the Scanner (3.25). The second number reported is the
sum of the first two numbers in the Scanner (3.25 + 4.5). The third number reported is the sum of the first three
numbers in the Scanner (3.25 + 4.5 + -8.25). And so on. The maximum of these values is 14.5, which is reported on
the second line of output. You may assume that there is at least one number to read.

3 of 8
5. File Processing
Write a static method named plusScores that accepts as a parameter a Scanner containing a series of lines that
represent student records. Each student record takes up two lines of input. The first line has the student's name and
the second line has a series of plus and minus characters. Below is a sample input:
Kane, Erica
--+-+
Chandler, Adam
++-+
Martin, Jake
+++++++
Dillon, Amanda
++-++-+-

The number of plus/minus characters will vary, but you may assume that at least one such character appears and that
no other characters appear on the second line of each pair. For each student you should produce a line of output with
the student's name followed by a colon followed by the percent of plus characters. For example, if the input above is
stored in a Scanner called input, the call of plusScores(input); should produce the following output:
Kane, Erica: 40.0% plus
Chandler, Adam: 75.0% plus
Martin, Jake: 100.0% plus
Dillon, Amanda: 62.5% plus

4 of 8
6. Array Programming
Write a method priceIsRight that accepts an array of integers bids and an integer price as parameters. The method
returns the element in the bids array that is closest in value to price without being larger than price. For example, if
bids stores the elements {200, 300, 250, 999, 40}, then priceIsRight(bids, 280) should return 250,
since 250 is the bid closest to 280 without going over 280. If all bids are larger than price, then your method should
return -1.
The following table shows some calls to your method and their expected results:
Arrays Returned Value
int[] a1 = {900, 885, 989, 1}; priceIsRight(a1, 880) returns 1
int[] a2 = {200}; priceIsRight(a2, 320) returns 200
int[] a3 = {500, 300, 241, 99, 501}; priceIsRight(a3, 50) returns -1
int[] a2 = {200}; priceIsRight(a2, 120) returns -1
You may assume there is at least 1 element in the array, and you may assume that the price and the values in bids will
all be greater than or equal to 1. Do not modify the contents of the array passed to your method as a parameter.

5 of 8
7. Array Programming
Write a static method named compress that accepts an array of integers a1 as a parameter and returns a new array
that contains only the unique values of a1. The values in the new array should be ordered in the same order they
originally appeared in. For example, if a1 stores the elements {10, 10, 9, 4, 10, 4, 9, 17}, then
compress(a1) should return a new array with elements {10, 9, 4, 17}.
The following table shows some calls to your method and their expected results:
Array Returned Value
int[] a1 = {5, 2, 5, 3, 2, 5}; compress(a1) returns {5, 2, 3}
int[] a2 = {-2, -12, 8, 8, 2, 12}; compress(a2) returns {-2, -12, 8, 2, 12}
int[] a3 = {4, 17, 0, 32, -3, 0, 0}; compress(a3) returns {4, 17, 0, 32, -3}
int[] a4 = {-2, -5, 0, 5, -92, -2, 0, 43}; compress(a4) returns {-2, -5, 0, 5, -92, 43}
int[] a5 = {1, 2, 3, 4, 5}; compress(a5) returns {1, 2, 3, 4, 5}
int[] a6 = {5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5}; compress(a6) returns {5}
int[] a7 = {}; compress(a7) returns {}
Do not modify the contents of the array passed to your method as a parameter.

6 of 8
8. Critters
Write a class Caterpillar that extends the Critter class from our assignment, along with its movement behavior.
Caterpillars move in an increasing NESW square pattern: 1 move north, 1 move east, 1 move west, 1 move south,
then 2 moves north, 2 moves east, etc., the square pattern growing larger and larger indefinitely. If a Caterpillar
runs into a piece of food, the Caterpillar eats the food and immediately restarts the NESW pattern. The size of the
Caterpillar’s movement is also reset back to 1 move in each direction again, and the increasing square pattern
continues as before until another piece of food is encountered.
Here is a sample movement pattern of a Caterpillar:
• north 1 time, east 1 time, south 1 time, west 1 time
• north 2 times, east 2 times, south 2 times, west 2 times
• north 3 times, east 3 times, south 3 times, west 3 times
• (runs into food)
• north 1 time, east 1 time, south 1 time, west 1 time
• north 2 times, east 1 time
• (runs into food)
• north 1 time
• (runs into food)
• north 1 time, east 1 time, south 1 time, west 1 time
• north 2 times, east 2 times, south 2 times, west 2 times
• (etc.)
Write your complete Caterpillar class below. All other aspects of Caterpillar besides eating and movement
behavior use the default critter behavior. You may add anything needed to your class (fields, constructors, etc.) to
implement this behavior appropriately.

7 of 8
9. Classes and Objects
Suppose that you are provided with a pre-written class Date as // Each Date object stores a single
described at right. (The headings are shown, but not the method // month/day such as September 19.
bodies, to save space.) Assume that the fields, constructor, and // This class ignores leap years.
methods shown are already implemented. You may refer to them
or use them in solving this problem if necessary. public class Date {
private int month;
Write an instance method named subtractWeeks that will be private int day;
placed inside the Date class to become a part of each Date
object's behavior. The subtractWeeks method accepts an // Constructs a date with
integer as a parameter and shifts the date represented by the Date // the given month and day.
public Date(int m, int d)
object backward by that many weeks. A week is considered to be
exactly 7 days. You may assume the value passed is non- // Returns the date's day.
negative. Note that subtracting weeks might cause the date to public int getDay()
wrap into previous months or years.
// Returns the date's month.
For example, if the following Date is declared in client code: public int getMonth()
Date d = new Date(9, 19);
// Returns the number of days
The following calls to the subtractWeeks method would // in this date's month.
modify the Date object's state as indicated in the comments. public int daysInMonth()
Remember that Date objects do not store the year. The date
before January 1st is December 31st. Date objects also ignore // Modifies this date's state
// so that it has moved forward
leap years.
// in time by 1 day, wrapping
Date d = new Date(9, 19); // around into the next month
d.subtractWeeks(1); // d is now 9/12 // or year if necessary.
d.subtractWeeks(2); // d is now 8/29 // example: 9/19 -> 9/20
d.subtractWeeks(5); // d is now 7/25 // example: 9/30 -> 10/1
d.subtractWeeks(20); // d is now 3/7 // example: 12/31 -> 1/1
d.subtractWeeks(110); // d is now 1/26
public void nextDay()
// (2 years prior)

// your method would go here

8 of 8
Random documents with unrelated
content Scribd suggests to you:
“Well, I will explain. He is masquerading here in cowboy rig, and
he is doing that to impress the people of this place. He makes himself
look as fierce and terrible as possible. That is for the purpose of
terrifying people and making them stand in awe of him. He has a way
of swaggering and bragging. Now, a real desperado seldom makes
such an effort to convince people that he is desperate. Very often it is
the case that the genuine desperado, the real dangerous man, is
peaceful and mild in appearance, seeking to avoid rather than to
attract attention. One of the most desperate ruffians the West ever
produced—Slade—was as mild-mannered as a woman. Wild Bill, who
was a ‘killer’ all his life, never swaggered and boasted of what he
could do. Jesse James was not a boaster. I might name many others.
In nine cases out of ten, the desperado who boasts and brags, who
swaggers and tries to frighten everybody by his terrible appearance,
is a craven at heart, and he may be handled with ease once he
realizes he has met his master.”
“Merriwell,” said Havener, “it is a wonder to me how you read
human character so well. Do you ever make a mistake?”
“Oh, yes!” laughed Frank, honestly. “I have made lots of mistakes.”
“How?”
“By trusting men who were rascals. By giving them too much
chance at me.”
“It’s alwus in that way that he makes mistakes, by thutter!” put in
Gallup. “He never makes um any other way, an’ I guess by jee! that
sometimes when he does trust a feller, he knows the chap’s crooked,
but kainder hopes he won’t prove that way.”
“Yes,” smiled Merry, “I have trusted many chaps, while I felt in my
heart that they were crooked, but I hoped I might be mistaken. I do
not like to condemn a man before he has been given a show to
display what there is in him.”
Dunton had been walking along in silence after his first remark.
Now he observed:
“I rather believe that sometimes, by trusting such fellows, you put
them on their honor so that they are ashamed to do you a dirty turn.”
“That is my object—it is my hope,” said Merry. “The moment a
man knows he is mistrusted, if his character is weak, he begins to
mistrust himself. Let him feel that others have confidence in him,
and his conscience in many cases makes him ashamed of being
crooked.”
“I don’t suppose I’m any too good,” admitted Dunton. “In fact, I
realize I’m not. It was not so long ago that I tried to do you a bad
turn, Merriwell. That was when you first joined the company to
which I belonged. I was no match for you. You did me up, but then,
instead of exposing me and causing my release in disgrace from the
company, you kept still and gave me a show. When I understood the
full extent of your generosity, I began to compare myself with you,
and the comparison was odious. I was disgusted with myself. I said,
‘Frank Merriwell is square, white and generous. What are you?’ Then
I came to you, Merriwell, and owned up.”
“That’s right,” nodded Frank. “And I do not believe to this day
Havener knows anything about it, although he was witness of the
whole affair as it originally happened.”
“I knew there was some trouble between you and Dunton,” said
the stage manager, “and I saw that it came out all right, for both of
you dropped all hard feelings, or seemed to.”
“But you never knew,” said Dunton, “that I tried to kill Merriwell.”
“Kill him?” gasped Havener.
“Yes.”
“Great gosh!” gurgled Ephraim.
“No,” admitted the stage manager, “I never knew that.”
“Well, it’s a fact,” admitted the actor. “It was in the time when we
were playing in repertoire just after the wind up of poor old ‘Uncle
Tom.’ You remember that Merriwell was run into the leading part in
a hurry, to fill the place of Leslie Lawrence, who was ill.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“And I wanted that part.”
“I remember that.”
“I thought it a shame to run in a rank amateur like Merriwell on a
lead.”
“You said so.”
“Well, I was hot because I could not have the part, and I did not
rehearse very well.”
Havener nodded. He remembered all this perfectly.
“In my heart,” Dunton went on, “was a perfect hell of fury. I don’t
think I ever felt that way before. My hatred for Merriwell knew no
bounds. I resolved to show him up. I am something of a fencer and
there was a sword duel in the play. I was the villain in the piece, and I
fought with the hero. It was necessary for Merriwell to do the duel
with me. In the piece I should seem to have the best of it at first, and
then he should show superior skill and disarm me.”
“I remember all about that,” said Havener. “Go on.”
“It was in that duel that I determined to make a monkey of him. I
would show the audience what a stick he was.”
Ephraim Gallup chuckled.
“I’ve known other folks to git fooled in a real duel with him,” said
the Vermonter.
“This turned out a real duel,” said Dunton. “When the time came, I
insulted Merriwell by adding venom to the regular lines of the part. I
called him a crawling cur. I did my best to make him feel my real
contempt for him.”
Frank was smiling, but he said nothing.
“The duel began,” Dunton continued. “I started to play with Mr.
Merriwell, who had rehearsed awkwardly in the afternoon. To my
surprise, I found his awkwardness was gone. He met me with the
touch and skill of an expert. At first I could not realize that he had
fooled me. When I did, I was infuriated beyond measure. My first
thought was to wound him, if I could.”
Havener uttered a low exclamation.
“I fought with all the skill and fury I knew,” said Dunton; “but he
met all my attacks, and held me at bay with ease. My rage increased
till I lost my head entirely. I longed to kill him, I swore I would kill
him—I made a desperate attempt to do it!”
“Gosh!” gasped the Vermont youth, staring at the speaker.
“I remember that the duel was the finest I ever saw on the stage,”
said Havener, “but I was afraid something would happen. I didn’t
dream it was a real duel.”
“It was,” nodded Dunton. “I lunged straight for Merriwell’s body,
trying to run him through.”
“Waal, darn my pertaturs!” palpitated Ephraim Gallup.
“I know that he understood my purpose. I do not think I deceived
Mr. Merriwell for a moment. He met me fairly. Then, before I knew
it, my weapon was wrenched from my hand and sent spinning into
the air.”
“Hooray!” exclaimed the Vermont youth, with satisfaction.
“Merriwell caught it when it came down, and immediately offered
it to me, hilt first.”
“Thutteration!” gurgled Gallup.
“A single moment I hesitated,” the actor continued, “and then I
was seized by such rage as I never felt before and never expect to feel
again. I snatched the weapon and made one mad lunge to drive it
straight through the heart of my antagonist.”
The Yankee lad nearly lost his breath.
“Mr. Merriwell was on guard for me. He was not taken unawares,
and he foiled my attempt. Then he attacked me with such fury that I
could not stand before him. I was driven back and back. I saw a
terrible light in his eyes, even though he laughed in my face. His
sword was flashing and glittering everywhere. I realized that I was
completely at his mercy, and I believed he intended to kill me. Then I
dropped my sword and cried for mercy.”
“Whoop!” exploded Gallup. “That’s ther way Frank Merriwell
serves ’em! Oh, he is the boy ter do it!”
“Well,” finished Dunton, “I more than half expected to be cut
down, but nothing of the kind happened. I remember with what
scorn Mr. Merriwell said he would not stain his sword with my
treacherous blood. I remember how I felt after that. No person can
understand the tumult of feelings in my heart. I thought of running
away. You complimented us on the duel after the curtain had fallen,
Mr. Havener, but you warned us that we were far too reckless, and
we must not do it that way again. I believed Mr. Merriwell would
expose me then. He did not. Then I was sure he would do so very
soon. He did not. I waited in suspense as long as I could stand it, and
then I came and asked him when he was going to blow the whole
thing. He said he was going to wait and see how I behaved in the
future, and that he had no thought of blowing if I didn’t try it again.
Well, I haven’t tried it. Have I, Mr. Merriwell?”
“No,” answered Frank, “we haven’t had much trouble since then.”
“And to think I never knew a thing about this before!” exclaimed
the stage manager. “Mr. Merriwell never breathed a word of it to me
—not a word.”
“Of course he didn’t!” exclaimed Ephraim. “He never blows
anything.”
“Mr. Dunton kept his word to me,” said Frank. “I am sure it was
my place to keep mine to him.”
“And you engaged him for your own company!”
“Yes; he was too good a man to let slip. I had a place for him, and
he has filled it.”
“And I think,” said Douglas Dunton, seriously, “that my
association with Frank Merriwell has improved me in various ways.
Anyone who takes him for a model is bound to improve.”
“That’s right, b’gosh!” nodded Gallup.
Hodge came rushing into Merriwell’s room almost as soon as
Frank arrived. He waved two papers over his head in a triumphant
way, crying:
“Great stuff, Frank—great stuff!”
Merry was astounded, for such a demonstration on the part of
Hodge was almost unprecedented.
“What is it?” asked Frank.
“The dramatic papers from the East.”
“Well, what about them?”
“Got full reports of ‘True Blue’ in ’em. Great stuff, I tell you!”
“Well, this is interesting. The papers must have given the play a
good send off?”
“Great—simply great! Here’s the Dramatic Reflector, the leading
New York paper, and it has almost a quarter of a column about the
production of your piece in Puleob.”
“As much as that?”
“Yes. And the Snipper gives you a good long notice, too. The
Reflector says ‘True Blue’ is a winner from the start, and you are a
dandy in your part. The Snipper does not give the cast, same as the
other paper, but its notice is just as complimentary. Here, read ’em,
read ’em!”
Frank took the papers and read the notices. His face showed his
satisfaction.
“It is better than I expected,” he said. “Now I understand how it
happened that I received notice in St. Jo that there was an opening in
New York for the week that I desired. The manager of the theater had
seen these notices.”
“That’s about the size of it,” nodded Hodge. “Oh, you are on the
straight road to success—you are forging to the front.”
“Well, I have hopes of getting there,” smiled Frank.
“You will. I know that. Just think of the houses we had in St. Jo.
And the advance sale here is remarkable. The manager says he never
knew such a sale but once before. The house will be jammed to-night.
We could play here three nights to paying business, and this is a
small place. What’ll we do when we hit Chicago?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Chicago will be the test.”
“How?”
“I think I shall be able to tell in Chicago whether the piece will be a
success or not.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. You can’t be sure. The taste of
Chicago sometimes varies from that of New York. What is a success
in one place is sometimes a failure in the other.”
“But that happens so seldom that it is an exception. If ‘True Blue’
catches on in Chicago, it will go in New York.”
“Well, I believe it is bound to go anywhere. It took me some time to
realize you had written a better play than your first one, but I know it
now.”
The door was standing ajar. Cassie Lee appeared outside.
“May I come in?” she called.
“Come right in, Cassie,” invited Frank. “Who’s that following you?
Tell him to come in.”
The soubrette entered, followed by Havener.
“I—I came to tell you something,” she said, but hesitated, as she
saw Bart sitting there.
“If it’s anything private, I’ll disappear,” said Hodge.
“It’s nothing private,” declared Havener. “There is no reason for
being secret about it, Cassie. The entire company knows we’re
engaged.”
“But I don’t feel just like—like——”
“Oh, I know,” smiled Havener, who looked decidedly happy. “But
I’ll tell. We’re going to be married in Chicago, Mr. Merriwell. We
have settled on that. I’ve induced Cassie to agree to it at last.”
“I congratulate you, Havener!” exclaimed Frank, grasping his hand
and shaking it warmly. “I believe you will be happy together, and
surely you deserve happiness, if any man deserves it, for fortune was
rather hard on you in your other venture.”
Bart rose and extended his hand to the stage manager.
“Permit me to add my congratulations,” he said.
Havener accepted Bart’s hand.
“And Cassie,” said Frank, looking into the eyes of the girl. “Why,
she’s changed remarkably in the last few weeks. The sad look has
gone from her face, and there is color coming to her cheeks and
luster to her eyes.”
“I owe you everything, Frank!” she murmured. “Everything!”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“You gave me courage to fight my terrible habit. You encouraged
me to pray. Heaven gave me strength. I believe I have won at last;
but not until I was reasonably sure of that would I again consent to
the marriage after that woman interfered with the other. The shock
of that nearly sent me back into my old ways again.”
“But it has ended well at last.”
“Yes, yes.”
“I am very glad, Cassie—glad for both you and Havener. I knew
how much depended on it.”
“The happiness of our lives depended on it—yes, our very lives!”
asserted the man.
“Well,” said Frank, “I presume I am to be best man?”
“Of course!” cried Havener and Cassie together.
“Then that is settled.”
“I have satisfied myself beyond a doubt, and Cassie also, that the
woman I believed my wife was the lawful wife of another at the time
we were living together. She committed bigamy. That clears me of
her, and I am free.”
Frank showed Havener and Cassie the notices in the dramatic
papers, and they took their turn to congratulate him.
“The sun of happiness and prosperity is shining brightly on all of
us just now,” said Merry. “I see my way clear to get back to college,
and——”
“Leave the rest of us in the lurch,” laughed Havener. “Well, I guess
we can take care of ourselves.”
“But I don’t propose to leave the rest of you in the lurch, Havener.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“This play will go on the road again next season.”
“Yes; who will manage it?”
“Roscoe Havener.”
“What?”
Havener was astounded.
“I have resolved on that, if you care to take it out.”
The stage manager was dazed for the moment.
“Oh, that is so good of you!” cried Cassie. “Just think of it, Ross!
You were saying yesterday that you’d give anything if you had a piece
like this for me to play in!”
“I know it,” said Havener; “but I never dreamed of——”
“Nor did I!” cried the little soubrette. “Oh, how can we thank
Frank!”
“I don’t know,” said Havener. “Words can’t seem to express what I
want to say.”
“Same here!” chirped Cassie.
“Don’t say anything,” laughed Frank.
“But how are we to get all the money to back the piece?” asked
Havener.
“I’ll back it myself,” said Frank. “That is, I’ll do it if Chicago and
New York does not break me. Of course, I may run against snags in
those places. If I get broken, I believe you should be able to find an
angel, Havener, in case I do not keep in the business.”
“It’s a shame that you are thinking of leaving just as you’re getting
such a start!” cried Cassie.
“I want to get back to college,” said Frank. “I feel something
drawing me back there. If I wait longer, my old classmates and
chums will be gone. Of course I can go back and finish my course,
but it will not be the same. I have made up my mind to return to Yale
somehow in the fall.”
“Well,” said Cassie, “whatever you do, I wish you good fortune and
happiness, for I am sure you deserve it.”
“Thank you. A man deserves what he wins. I have worked hard to
win out, and prosperity seems coming my way at last.”
Havener and Cassie departed pretty soon, and Frank turned to
find Bart seated on a chair, his elbows resting on his knees, and his
face hidden in his hands.
CHAPTER XVI.
BART AND DAISY.

The change from Hodge’s jubilation of a short time before to his


present attitude and appearance of dejection was rather startling.
Merry paused an instant, then stepped forward quickly, exclaiming:
“Bart!”
Hodge did not stir.
Frank’s hand fell gently on his shoulder.
“What’s the matter, old man?” asked Merry, softly.
“Nothing,” mumbled Hodge.
“Oh, but there is,” declared Frank. “You were feeling well enough a
short time ago. What’s the meaning of this change?”
Hodge was silent.
“Look here, Bart,” said Merry, gently, “I’m your friend—I’m the
one for you to talk to about this matter, old man.”
Bart looked up, now, but there was something like defiance in his
face.
“There isn’t anything to talk about,” he asserted. “Can’t a fellow
have the blues once in a while, if he wants ’em!”
“Nobody wants the blues, Hodge. A man in good health, with a
liver that is not torpid, should not have the blues. Is there anything
the matter with your liver?”
“Dunno.”
“There was a cause for the sudden change in you,” said Merry,
seriously. “A little while ago you seemed in better spirits than you
have shown before for a month. And now you are in the funks.”
“Oh, don’t use that word!”
“What word?”
“Funk.”
“What’s the matter with that word?”
“It’s Yale slang.”
“What of that?”
Hodge sprang up and walked the floor.
“I don’t want to hear it!” he cried, fiercely. “I don’t want to hear
anything that will remind me of Yale! Isn’t it bad enough for me to
know you are going back there!”
“I’m afraid I do not quite understand you,” said Merry, slowly.
“Why should you feel that way about it?”
“I am an outcast! You are going back to finish your course.”
“Is that it?”
“Yes.”
“Are you jealous, Hodge?”
“No; I’m glad you’re going—I’m glad for you!”
“Then what is the matter? You seem to be completely off your
trolley, old man. You’re getting freakish.”
“Oh, I suppose so! Rub it in! I had a letter from my mother
yesterday. She said she was sorry to give me up, but I had been a
terrible disappointment to her. She did hope I would get through
college. She was sending me money to get through on, you know. I
was a fool! I gambled her money away, and she sent it without letting
my father know, for he would have stopped her had he known. Oh,
isn’t there a reason why I should feel blue?”
“I think you are inclined to make things out worse than they are,
Hodge.”
“Worse! worse! Ha! ha! How could they be any worse? Here my
mother, who has clung to me all through everything, is giving up in
despair! She thinks I have gone to the dogs.”
“And I suppose you do not write and tell her all the truth?”
“What’s the use?” said Bart, bitterly. “She knows I ran away from
college. Do you fancy it would make her feel any better to know I did
so because I could not meet the gambling debts I had contracted? In
this case, it is better not to tell the truth.”
“I think I will write to your mother, Bart.”
“What for?”
“I have something to tell her.”
“What?”
“That you are going back to college in the fall.”
Hodge stopped and stared at Frank. After a few moments, he
spoke:
“Why would you tell her such a thing as that?”
“It would make her feel better.”
“But you were speaking of telling the truth a moment ago.”
“And I should be telling the truth then.”
“What?”
“Nothing but the truth.”
“Look here, Merriwell, I want to know just what you are driving at!
Come out and give it to me straight.”
“All right,” smiled Frank. “I mean that you are going back to
college when I go. Is that plain enough?”
“It’s plain enough, but it’s you who are off your trolley.”
“Oh, I think not.”
“You are, just the same. I am done with Yale. How could I go back
there, after skipping out as I did and leaving all those debts? It’s
impossible.”
“You know your debts were paid. When Browning returned to
college, he squared them all.”
“Without my knowledge, Merriwell. I refused to let you send the
money, but you did it without letting me know a thing about it. I was
the one to pay the debts I had contracted. You did that.”
“Something I’ll guarantee is known to no person but Browning.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I know it.”
“How?”
“He was bound by a pledge not to say I had anything to do with it,
but to give the impression that the money came from you.”
Something misty came into the eyes of the dark-haired lad.
“Merriwell,” he said, huskily, “I’d be an ungrateful churl not to
appreciate such kindness!”
“It’s all right, old man; it’s what I’d wish another to do for me were
I in your place.”
“It’s exactly what you would not accept from another. I know that.
You put me in this position without my consent. Now I owe you all
that money.”
“Forget it!”
“That’s easy to say, but it’s not easy to do. Now you are going back
to college, and what’s to become of me? I am left!”
“I tell you that you are going with me.”
“No; I have no love for any of your Yale friends. Of course I was
sorry that I failed to finish my course and graduate. It’s too late now.
I tell you my mother has given me up. That makes it impossible for
me to return to college. She was paying my way. Now there is no one
to furnish me with money, and I am as bad off as you were when you
lost your fortune.”
“Bart, I’ve been thinking of something lately. You know all about
our discovery of the lost fortune in the Utah Desert.”
“I know all about your discovery of it, and I know no other person
had a hand in it.”
“But Browning, Diamond, Rattleton and Toots were with me. It
has been divided equally among us. Shortly after the discovery of
that treasure you joined our party. I have thought it all over, and it
seems no more than fair that you should have a share of that
fortune.”
“You’re going daffy!”
“Not a bit of it. I say it is right. The others have received their
shares, but you shall have your share of mine. I will divide with you,
and that will give you four thousand dollars. With that sum you can
return to college and finish your course.”
Hodge laughed sarcastically.
“I’d like to know what you take me for!” he cried. “Are you trying
to insult me, Frank?”
“You know better!”
“Do you imagine I’m a fool?”
“No.”
“Well, then, don’t ever make me such an offer again. You know
what I think of those chaps who accepted the checks you sent them.
You know I believe that treasure belonged entirely to you, and no
other had a right to a dollar of it. Do you take me for a fellow who
would accept from you a gift of four thousand dollars? Well, that’s
what you propose to make me—nothing more, nothing less. It won’t
go with me, Merriwell. I do not thank you for the offer, for you
should have known better than to make it. Go back to Yale. I wish
you good fortune—I wish you everything you desire. I will go my way
in the world; you’ll go yours. It must come to that in time, anyhow.
What odds if it comes sooner than we had anticipated! You have
taken an interest in me, Frank, and your friendship is the pleasantest
memory of my life; but even that must become a mere memory
sometime.”
“There is no reason why it should become a mere memory while
life shall last,” said Frank, soberly. “Though fate may divide us, still
our friendship should remain firm and unshaken. As for your return
to Yale, I’m not going to say anything more about it now, but I shall
not give it up.”
While a rehearsal was taking place for the benefit of the supers
that afternoon the local stage manager came to Frank and said:
“Mr. Merriwell, there is a young lady down at the door who wishes
to see you.”
“A young lady?” exclaimed Merry, not without a feeling of
consternation, for his recent experiences in St. Joseph were vivid in
his memory.
“Yes, sir.”
“Who is it?”
“I don’t know her name.”
“But she belongs in this town?”
“Yes.”
“Methinks thou hast another mash, most noble grand high muck-
a-muck,” spouted Douglas Dunton, in the eccentric manner he
sometimes assumed.
“I’m afraid so,” admitted Merry.
“Perchance thou wouldst send me down to see the fair damsel—but
I doubt it,” murmured Dunton.
“No,” said Frank, “I think I had better go down myself.”
He went down to the door and found the girl who was waiting
there. He was surprised to see her standing with her head bowed, in
an attitude of apparent dejection and shame.
“Did you wish to see me, miss?” he asked.
She nodded her head, but did not look up, not a little to his
perplexity and wonderment.
“I am here.”
“Mr. Merriwell,” she murmured, “I have come to thank you.”
“To thank me?” exclaimed Merry. “For what?”
“For your kindness to me in St. Joseph.”
Frank’s heart dropped.
“Good gracious!” he thought. “Has she followed us from St. Jo.?”
Then the girl looked up, and he recognized her.
“Daisy Blaney!” he exclaimed. “Why, I didn’t know you!”
No wonder he had not recognized the bold, saucy, reckless girl in
this meek, abashed, low-spoken maiden.
“Yes, Daisy Blaney,” she said. “I thought perhaps you did not want
to know me, and I did not wonder much.”
“Didn’t want to know you? Why not, Miss Blaney?”
“Oh, because—because—you know,” she faltered, in confusion. “I
reckon I ain’t just the sort of girl you would be proud to introduce to
your friends. You didn’t meet me under very favorable
circumstances, and you must think I’m pretty far down the scale.”
“I hope not,” said Merry, quickly.
“Still, I know just what you think, and I don’t know that I blame
you much. You are different from any show feller I ever met before. I
never fancied any of them cared a snap what became of a girl if they
could have a good time. None of them ever gave me any good advice
before. I never saw one before you who was not ready to catch on and
have a racket. Instead of catching on, you gave me a calling down. I
knew I deserved it, and it made me feel all the more reckless. I
thought I was too far on the road to turn back, and I tried to forget
what you said to me; but I couldn’t forget it, and it kept sounding in
my ears all the time. I couldn’t run away from the sound; I couldn’t
drown it with music and laughter. I saw you looking at me in that
sympathizing, pitying way, and, though I tried to laugh at you for a
fool, your eyes haunted me. Oh, I tell you I was right miserable after
that talk with you. You set me to thinking of mother and home.”
“Mother and home!” said Frank, softly. “The two strongest
influences for good. How many a wayward wanderer has been
reclaimed by thoughts of mother and home!”
“If mother had had her way at home I’d never left,” the girl went
on. “It was the old man—father, I mean. He drove me away. He
didn’t seem to understand me at all. If I made a little mistake, he was
so harsh and cruel with me. Why,” she exclaimed, suddenly relapsing
into slang under the pressure of excitement, “the old duffer uster be a
pretty gay boy himself, and there wasn’t any reason why his daughter
shouldn’t take after him. All the same, he never thought of that, but
he was dead hard on me.”
Frank knew this was the fault of many fathers. They forgot their
own younger days and were harsh and hard with their sons or
daughters who showed they had inherited certain lively qualities
from their parents.
“But your mother—for her sake, you must overlook anything from
your father.”
“Yes, I suppose I ought, but it’s pretty hard sometimes. He’s tried
to be so strict with me it’s driven me to do some of the things I have
done.”
“That is where you are making your mistake. I do not wish to
lecture you now, Miss Blaney, and I am going to say no more about
it. I am glad I was able to find you that night in St. Jo.”
Her eyes began to shine and something like a flush came to her
cheeks, which, with satisfaction, Merry observed were now unmarred
by paint.
“You were brave, Frank Merriwell!” she cried; “just as you seemed
to be in the play—just as I knew you were! Those men did not
frighten you in the least. You fought the whole crowd like a tiger. But
I thought you would be killed till that woman interfered. Who was
she?”
“A stranger—a woman I had never seen but once before in my life.
Then she was in a plot to blackmail me. The plot failed, and she was
ready to turn against her accomplices. What do you know of her?”
“Nothing, save that she is known in the sporting circles of St. Jo. as
Queen Mab, and she is something of a mystery. There’s not a gay girl
in the city who would not give anything to be like Queen Mab.”
“I am sure the woman is not all bad. It was rare good fortune that
brought your mother along there just as we escaped from the place.”
“One reason why I came here was to thank you,” said the girl; “but
there is another reason.”
“Yes?”
“Yes; I want to warn you.”
“To warn me?”
“You have had some trouble with Sam Hooker.”
“I have.”
“Everybody in town has heard of it. Sam is in disgrace, but he has
sworn a great oath that he’ll disgrace you worse than you did him.”
“Oh, he has?”
“Yes, I heard it from his brother Joe. You know Joe kind of—kind
of—— Well, he calls at our house.”
The girl’s confusion explained her meaning. The red blood
mounted to her face now, and Frank saw she was ashamed of Joe
Hooker when she compared him with some of the flashy city youths
she had met.
“He told you?” questioned Merriwell.
“Yes; I pumped it all out of him. He doesn’t know I ever met you in
all my life. I slipped in here on the sly, so they would not catch on
that I had warned you.”
“It was kind of you.”
“No; it won’t half pay back what you did for me—the risk you ran. I
was thinking of that.”
To Frank it seemed a case of “bread on the waters.” But he had not
learned what plot had been formed against him, and his curiosity
was aroused.
“Joe says Sam is just furious,” the girl went on. “He is fierce
enough to kill you. He would kill you, if he dared. He loaded up his
guns and swore a mighty oath to make you regret the day you were
born.”
“There is considerable wind about Sam Hooker,” said Frank; “but
still he might be driven to something desperate.”
“You know he’s been a cowboy?”
“Well, he says so.”
“He really has, and he can throw a lasso.”
“What of that?”
“He’s coming to the show to-night.”
“What then?”
“He says he’s going to bring his lasso.”
“Why?”
“And he swears he will rope you from the stage.”
“Is that it?” cried Merry. “So that is what he means to do?”
“Yes. He says he’ll drag you over the footlights and clean out of the
theater.”
“Well, this is rather interesting!” exclaimed Frank; “and I am
greatly obliged to you for telling me about it.”
“What will you do?”
“I shall be prepared for Mr. Hooker, be sure of that. But you must
take care not to let him know you have told me.”
“Little danger of that. I wouldn’t dare. Joe invited me to come to
the theater with him to see Sam square the score. I shall be here, and
I do hope you will look out.”
“Don’t worry at all about that, Miss Blaney. Now that I know what
is coming, there is not the least danger in the world that I shall not be
ready.”
“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.”
“I am loading it with another kind of cartridge,” said Frank, as he
refilled the cylinder.
“Not with regular cartridges?”
“Yes.”
“Why—why, I don’t understand why you are doing that.”
“I suppose not,” admitted Frank, as he finished loading and
snapped the weapon back into shape. “I didn’t think you would
understand.”
“A weapon that is loaded with anything but blank cartridges is not
a very safe thing to squabble over.”
“That is true, and, for that reason, we must be very careful in our
squabble over it to-night, Mr. Garland.”
“Really, I—I don’t like this. What if something happened!”
“Something is liable to happen. That is why I have loaded this
weapon. If I should call for it suddenly, you are to pass it to me; but I
do not think I shall need it till after the struggle takes place. It will be
in my possession from that time on.”
“Won’t you explain, Mr. Merriwell?”
“No. It is sufficient that I have a reason for wishing this revolver
loaded with something besides blanks. Here, take it, Garland, and be
careful with it. When you pull it on me, point it in the air and begin
to pull down with it. I will spring forward and grasp it before it
covers me. Keep your finger off the trigger. Do not hang to it quite as
tight as usual in the struggle.”
“All right,” said Garland, in a puzzled way; “but I’d give something
to know what is going on.”
Ephraim Gallup was as much puzzled as Garland, but he asked no
questions, for he knew there were times when it was utterly useless
to question Merry.
The story of Merriwell’s strange act passed from mouth to mouth,
and the actors and actresses were puzzled and bewildered over it.
Agnes Kirk even declared that she believed success had turned
Frank’s brain.
“He was always queer,” she asserted. “A fellow who will stoop to
feed and pet a tramp cat and then carry it around as a mascot is not
right. But I call on everybody to notice that we have become
prosperous since he let that cat go.”
“Oh, I hardly think that,” said Stella Stanley. “He did not let the cat
go till after this piece had made a hit. Then he said he could not carry
the creature around, and he would prove she had nothing to do with
the success or failure of the show by letting her go. He seemed to
knock the wind out of your superstitious prophecies, Agnes.”
“Not at all,” declared the other actress, stiffly. “I said the cat would
hoodoo us in the first place, and it did, no matter what happened
afterward.”
“Oh, it’s no use to talk with you.”
“Not a bit.”
Stella Stanley turned away, laughing. She saw Hodge, standing at a
distance, regarding her steadfastly.
Since the affair in Atchison, when Bart deserted the company, the
dark-faced youth had scarcely spoken to Stella. After being brought
back by Frank, he seemed to take the utmost pains to avoid her.
Now, as she started toward him, he wheeled about and
disappeared behind the back drop.
“I’d like to know what ails him!” she exclaimed, somewhat angrily.
“He shan’t keep up this running away from me!”
Then she followed Hodge and ran him down back where the
shadows were thickest. She grasped him with both hands.
“Look here, Bart Hodge!” she exclaimed; “do you think I’m going
to eat you up? or what ails you? You run away from me as if you
regarded me as a snake!”
Hodge stood there, silent, looking at her. She gave him a shake.
“Stop it!” she cried. “I’m tired of it! I don’t like it! I won’t have it!
Will you be good enough, Mr. Bart Hodge, to treat me differently?”
“I don’t know,” he said, obstinately. “Why should I?”
“Why shouldn’t you?”
“There is every reason why I shouldn’t.”
“Name a few of them.”
“To begin with, you regard me as a mere boy—a stripling who does
not know his own mind. You insulted me when I told you of my
admiration for you. You laughed at me. You might as well have said
‘calf love.’ I won’t stand for that kind of treatment from you or any
other woman!”
She did not laugh at him now, for he was beginning to realize that
he could not be treated like a boy. She could not flatter and flirt with
him as she did with Billy Wynne. His admiration for her was not of
the sort to endure that kind of cajolery.
“Mr. Hodge,” she said, “if I did anything to offend you, if I was
offensive, I beg your pardon.”
“Yes, you beg my pardon, but you will go on regarding me as an
addle-pated boy. If I dared open my lips to honestly tell you of my
admiration, you would laugh at me! Oh, I know! You are like them all
—only handsomer and colder!”
“You have a fancy that you have read me, Bart Hodge, but let me
tell you that you are a very poor judge of human nature. You seldom
read anybody aright.”
“It’s not such a difficult thing to read a woman,” he sneered. “They
are all alike in one respect—they are as treacherous and fickle as cats!
They think they love. They enjoy being petted and caressed. They
purr and show all sorts of affection, but they are shallow. No more
than a cat do they know true affection! As ready as a cat are they to
sink their claws into the hand that caresses them! And when their
master is gone, like a cat, they seek petting and fondling from
another. They cannot be constant till the master returns; they cannot
be true to death and after—like a faithful dog!”
Stella Stanley was rather high-spirited, and it made her “hot” to
hear anybody talk in such a manner.
“You are trying your best to insult me now,” she said, “and you are
succeeding very well! I’d like to tell you what I think of men like you,
but I haven’t the time, and I don’t choose to waste my breath on you
now. In some respects, I admire you; in others, I despise you. You are
like all men, thoroughly unjust toward women. Other men may hide
their thoughts, but you speak out; that is the difference. Men talk of
the fickleness of women, but experience shows that women are far
more constant than men. Once a woman loves a man truly, with all
her heart and soul, she never loves another like that. She gives that
man all that is best of her. What does she receive in return? If he
provides her a home, clothes, food, he thinks he is doing his full duty.
Don’t talk to me of the fickleness of women!” she hissed. “Don’t ever
dare speak to me again like this, Bart Hodge! Sometimes I think I
admire you, but when you show yourself as you have just now, I
despise you!”
With that she left him; but she did not despise him, for all of her
words.
And Bart? He was trembling all over.
“By Heaven!” he hoarsely whispered. “I could love her, but I
won’t!”
CHAPTER XVIII.
AN ASTONISHING SHOT.

The overture was finished, and the orchestra played a “riser” for
the curtain to go up.
“True Blue” began.
It was an audience to make any actor do his best. Gallup in the
part of Reuben Grass soon put the audience in a good humor. He
strolled onto the stage in his jay make-up, singing the song with
which he had made such a hit in Merriwell’s first play:
“I alwus mind what dad says ter me
Sense fust he tuck me uver his knee;
But when I’m away ’way outer his sight
I do jest abaout as any boy might;
Fer then I know that he’ll never see
That I don’t mind what he says ter me.”

The audience received him with a burst of applause, and Ephraim


responded by getting off several country gags that delighted
everybody.
No, not everybody. Down near the front sat a man who scowled
and glowered at the stage. It was Sam Hooker, and he was there to
make trouble. He was handling something which Gallup could not
see. Ephraim paused and winked at the ruffian in a most tantalizing
manner.
The audience was waiting for the appearance of the star. The
whole town had heard of the manner in which Frank had treated the
terror of the place, and everybody seemed anxious for a look at the
boyish actor who had dared face the ruffian.
Granville Garland, as Carius Dubad, came on and carried things
with a high hand, everything leading up to an effective enter for
Merriwell.
Dubad was terrorizing Grass when the moment came for Merry to
make his appearance. As he entered there was a great burst of
applause and a voice from the gallery cried:
“That’s him! That’s Frank Merriwell hisself, and he’s a
lollypalooser!”
Then about fifty boys jumped up in the gallery and yelled like a lot
of wild Indians.
Immediately after his enter, Frank’s lines caused him to threaten
to fling the villain of the piece out of the house, whereupon the villain
drew a revolver.
This was the weapon Frank had loaded with bullet-bearing
cartridges. Merry sprang on Garland and wrested the revolver from
his hand, while Ephraim looked on in apparent terror.
While this brief struggle was taking place, Sam Hooker rose to his
feet, roaring:
“Whoop! He’s a purty lively maverick, but I’m ther puncher ter put
my brand on him. First I’ll rope him, same as I would a steer. Hyar
goes!”
Round and round his head he swung a lariat, and then he quickly
made the throw.
The man’s words had warned Merry that the time for action had
come. With the loaded revolver in his hand, he sprang back from
Garland.
The noose of the lasso came shooting through the air.
Quick as thought, Frank lifted the revolver and fired a single shot.
The bullet cut the rope, and the noose fell harmlessly at the feet of
the young actor!
It was over in the twinkling of an eye, and the ruffianly cowboy
stood there with the useless end of the cut rope in his hands, dazed
and bewildered by what had happened.
The audience was startled, and Frank saw that the people must be
calmed at once, so he immediately stepped to the footlights and
began to speak:
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