“What about it?”
“Why, you know I was furious with you, and I tried to do you up for keeps. Of course, you will blow it to Havener and the others. Why don’t you get about it? I’m tired of waiting.”
“Look here, Mr. Dunton,” said Merriwell, facing the fellow squarely. “I want to ask you one or two questions. First, aren’t you a little bit disgusted with yourself for trying such a trick?”
“Perhaps so,” admitted Dunton, sheepishly.
“Next, would you try it again if you had the chance?”
“No. I was a fool, and I’m glad I failed. I don’t want to kill anybody.”
“I thought not, and I thought I would give you time to come to your senses. You need not be afraid that I will blow. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You—you will keep still about it?”
“If you act decent in the future—yes.”
The fellow was silent. He stood staring at Frank, seeming uncertain what he had better do. Gradually the blood flowed into his face till it was crimson.