“I’m not going to make a long call,” said Dick. “I dropped in to ask you about this queer old pistol. Have you ever seen it before?”
He produced the weapon and held it up before Lynch as he spoke.
CHAPTER XLIV.
LYNCH CONFESSES.
At sight of the pistol Mike started violently, betraying much agitation. It seemed that his pale face grew still whiter. For a moment he sat quite still, but finally, summoning command of himself, he extended a hand and took the weapon from Dick.
Merriwell stood watching every shade of expression that flitted across the face of the sandy-haired youth. He was wondering if Mike would deny having seen the pistol. In such a case Dick was ready with a hot denouncement. In fact, he had practically determined to make public the truth of the affair and force Lynch out of college. Why not? Certainly there was no reason why he should permit the fellow to remain there after this second attempt to commit murder. The running down of the rowboat might be called a piece of reckless maliciousness without any deliberate desire to take human life, but when, with a loaded pistol in his hand, a man creeps up behind another man whom he hates, it certainly looks like premeditated crime of the most bloodthirsty sort.
Twice Lynch sought to moisten his lips with his tongue before speaking. When he did speak his voice was husky and faltering.
“Where did you get this, Merriwell?” he asked.
“You haven’t answered my question,” reminded Dick coldly. “When you do answer it I’ll answer yours. Have you ever seen that pistol before?”
“I—I think I have,” muttered Mike.
“Well, it was picked up on the baseball ground after you were knocked senseless by that foul ball. It was found where you dropped when the ball hit you.”