Mr. Drayben saw that Merriwell was holding himself in reserve, and he felt a sudden curiosity to know what would pass between the enemies who had met there in his hotel, so he did not speak to Frank at once.
"Where is your fine friend, Mr. Parker Flynn, who you aided in your piratical attempt to seize my yacht?" asked Frank.
Snell swallowed down a lump in his throat and made an effort to recover his composure.
"The yacht belongs to Mr. Flynn," he said, huskily, his voice betraying his craven spirit.
"You know better than that! If so, why didn't Flynn remain in Rockland and push the case against me? Why did he suddenly take to his heels when he learned that Benjamin, from whom I bought the White Wings, was in Rockland?"
"Business called him back to Boston," faltered Snell.
"And business called you out of Rockland in a hurry, too. But you stopped too soon. It would have been better for you if you had kept on going."
Snell understood Merriwell's meaning and he quailed before the flashing eyes of the boy he had slandered.
"Oh, you can't scare me with your threats!" he declared, in a weak manner. "I'm not afraid of you, Mr. Frank Merriwell."