Merriwell stooped to lift his enemy. As he did so his eyes met those of Bunol, and in the dark orbs of the helpless Spaniard he saw a murderous look of hatred.
On Bunol’s forehead there was a swelling, but otherwise he seemed unharmed.
Dick had been compelled to jerk the paper weight at the fellow with a quick, snapping movement. Had he thrown the thing with all his strength the rascal’s skull might have been fractured.
Unheeding the venom in Bunol’s glance, Dick lifted the fellow’s limp body and carried him quickly across the room, thrusting him into the small closet. He placed the helpless wretch in a sitting position on the floor, with his knees curled up to his chin, and then closed the closet door.
Some one was rapping on the door Brad was holding.
“Let them in,” directed Dick coolly.
Buckhart stepped away from the door.
Professor Gunn entered, followed by a huge black man, wearing immense brass rings in his ears.
“This man wants to speak with you, Richard,” said the old pedagogue. “He has a message for you.”
Dick was very much surprised.