Bart whistled.
"You don't mean to say that you have a failing or a fault that you cannot govern, do you?" he asked.
Frank put out one hand, and partly turned away. Instantly Bart sprang forward and caught the hand, saying swiftly:
"There, there, Merriwell—don't notice it! I didn't mean anything. You are sensitive to-day. Hang it all, man! do you think I want to hurt your feelings without cause! I shouldn't have said it, for I see you are not yourself."
"No, I am not," confessed Frank. "You know every fellow has a secret. I did not intend to tell mine. I believe I was born with an intense passion for gambling."
"And you cannot govern it?"
"Well, I have been able to do so during the past year."
"Oh, you are all right; you have a strong mind and——"
"Every strong mind has a weak spot. I began gaming by playing marbles, and the passion grew on me. When I had money, I gambled for cents and nickels. As I grew older, I learned to play cards, and I gambled for larger sums. If I knew that a game was going on I would leave everything to get into it. Once I 'appropriated' money from my mother's purse to gamble with."
Frank stopped. His face crimsoned as he uttered the words, and he showed his deep shame and humiliation. But he quickly added: