“There you are,” said Chet, standing in front of Dick, with his feet apart and puffing at the cigarette. “How do you like the smell of this?”
He blew a whiff of smoke into Dick’s face.
“Never smoke, eh? Well, you bet you will smoke to-night! Here, confound you! take this and smoke, if you don’t want to be skinned alive!”
He attempted to thrust the cigarette between Dick’s lips, but it fell to the floor. In trying to pick it up, he fell awkwardly himself, and Moran assisted him to his feet.
“Where’s Lazaro?” he demanded. “Why, the keys ought to be right here! Where’s he gone?”
“I don’t know,” answered Moran.
“Well, I’ll find him! I’ll find him! I want the keys! I want to get at that booze!”
Staggering a little, he left the cabin and stumbled up the companionway to the deck, leaving Moran alone with Dick.
As soon as Chester was gone and Moran felt sure he was alone with Dick, he spoke in a low tone:
“That drunken fool is crazy, Merriwell. He is bound to get us all in a bad mess. I am willing enough to drink his liquor and take his money; but he is going too far to suit me.”