"He said the name of the student's father was Charles Conrad Merriwell. I believe, sir—I am quite sure, in fact—that that was the name of your father."
Frank was fully aroused, and his brown eyes gleamed in a way that showed how indignant he was, although it was necessary to keep his feelings suppressed as far as possible.
"Professor Gunn," he said, swiftly, "that man is a scoundrel!"
"Eh? Ha! Hum! Severe language. Be careful, young man—be cautious. Do not make a statement you cannot stand behind. It is dangerous—very dangerous."
"I can stand behind every word I have said. Why, when he found I would not sell him the ring, professor, he tried to rob me of it! That is not only the act of a scoundrel, but that of a desperado."
"It looks bad—bad," confessed the old professor, who seemed in a somewhat nervous and flustered state. "Tell me all about it—give the full particulars of the occurrence."
Frank did so, telling a straightforward story, to which the professor listened with interest that was apparent, although he now and then pressed his hand to his head, as if the pain were troubling him.
When the story was finished, and Frank had explained what he and Bart had discovered on the black stone set in the ring, the old professor showed that he was quite wrought up.
"Remarkable!" he exclaimed—"re-e-markable! I am surprised—I am puzzled. This man told a very straight story—said the ring was stolen from him in Arizona. He said it was very valuable to him, as it was an heirloom. He could not tell how it came into your possession—he did not try. All he wanted was to recover his property—that was all."
"That was his scheme when he found he could not buy it from me. He did not attempt to make you believe he was a collector of odd rings, professor, for he knew that would do no good, and so he laid claim to the ring. What proof did he give you that it was his property?"