“More plots?” exclaimed Merry, with an air of weariness. “Morgan, I had hoped plotting against me was at an end while I remained at Yale.”
“I fear you hoped in vain. You are going to give a supper to your friends to-morrow night?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I have discovered enough to know that the plot is going to be put into operation at that time.”
“What’s the game?”
“Just what it is I cannot tell. I am not given to listening at keyholes, Merriwell; but having scented this thing last night, I did a little listening. I could not get at the bottom of the whole matter, but what I heard told me there was something wrong.”
“Who owned the door, Morgan?”
“Defarge.”
“No!”
Frank looked surprised.