“Excuse me, please. I hope this doesn’t disturb you.”
“Waugh!” Bruce struggled to a sitting posture, with the bedspread twisted about his neck like a muffler.
“I hope you are resting well,” snickered Rattleton.
Browning began to tear at the bedspread, a look of rage coming to his bruised and lacerated face.
“You must be very, very tired,” observed Diamond seriously.
A howl of fury escaped Browning’s lips. He looked around the room, and saw the overturned furniture, and the shattered clocks. In a moment, he remembered all the horrors of the previous night.
“You imps of Satan!” he thundered, making a floundering jump to get upon his feet. “I have sworn an oath of vengeance! My time has come! Not one of you leaves this room alive!”
Then his tangled feet tripped him up, and he sprawled on the floor, with a crash, causing the three lads to shout with laughter.
“You seem to be excited, Bruce,” said Frank. “I hope nothing happened in the night to disturb you.”
“Excited!” exploded Browning, tearing at the bedclothes, and ripping a sheet from end to end. “Oh, no, I’m not excited! Let me get my hands on you, Frank Merriwell! You’ll never put up another job like this!”