He passed a match to Frank, who hastily struck it on a stone and then held it so that he could read the name that was engraved on the card in his fingers.
A cry of astonishment broke from Merriwell's lips, and both card and match fell from his fingers to the ground.
This is the name he had read upon the card:
"Mr. Burnham Putnam."
CHAPTER XXXII.
DITSON IS TRAPPED.
"It don't make a dit of bifference, Frank!" spluttered Harry Rattleton. "I don't care if you have got his card! That thug lied like blazes! Putnam may be selfish—he may have other faults, but he never hired anybody to break your arm."
"I cannot think he would do such a thing myself," said Frank; "but this Plug Kirby, as he is called, seemed honest and in earnest. He stands ready to identify the fellow at any time."
"Then why not settle it by bringing him before Putnam this very afternoon? That's the way to mix the fatter—I mean fix the matter."