“Well?”
“You go to him; you tell him it ruin you if Miguel Bunol must leave the school. Then you say to him that if he does not mean to be to you the ruin he must keep it still about Miguel Bunol. He must not make it so that Bunol must leave the school. You do that, so that I can stay, and I will be still about you.”
“Great heavens!” groaned Chester, dropping on a chair and passing a trembling hand across his forehead. “You ask me to go to Dick Merriwell and beg—beg, beg! I can’t do that!”
“Oh, all right!” said Miguel, coolly rolling a cigarette.
The fellow was not disturbed, for he felt that he had conquered. He saw that Arlington was wavering and ready to surrender. It was gall and wormwood to Chester to be forced into appearing as a supplicant to Merriwell, whom in his heart of hearts he still hated as much as ever, but there was no other escape for him. He must humble himself before Merriwell or get out of Fardale. If he defied Bunol the fellow would disgrace him; he had not the least doubt of that.
“I’ll pay you the thousand dollars,” he suddenly said.
Bunol lifted his heavy black eyebrows in surprise.
“Why, you say you cannot get it,” he observed, and it was plain that he felt disappointment in this decision of Chester.
“I can’t—all at once.”
“Then——”