Merriwell’s fingers found the switch and turned it. This cut off all the lights in the upper part of the building.
“That’s too much,” he whispered quickly. “Turn off that one over your head, Brad. Hurry up.”
There was a faint click, and the Texan announced that he had found the electric bulb and turned off the current. Then Dick softly pushed back the panel and manipulated the electrical switch. He did not turn it on at once, but moved it gradually, getting the result hoped for as the lights glowed dimly at first.
The startled fellows within that room saw the white, ghastly face at the open panel and Du Boise shrieked and fell to the floor in a faint. Dick closed the panel at once.
“Skip, Brad!” he hissed. “We must make a sudden duck.”
Spofford and his friends had left, and only the barkeeper was found in the lower room.
“What’s that yell I heard?” he asked, as the boys appeared.
“Nothing but a little practical joke,” said Dick, as he mopped the flour from his face with his handkerchief. “Those fellows upstairs are hitting the booze too hard. It’s time they swore off. They may think they’ve seen a ghost. Perhaps you’ll help them reform if you fail to undeceive them.”
“Don’t say a word,” said Brad, tossing a silver dollar on the bar.
“You sure gave those gents something of a start, partner,” said Brad, as they hurried away.