“Then we’d better go ahead and do him up, hadn’t we, governor?”
“My son, my son!” cried the old hypocrite, with uplifted hands; “you know I always set my face against such acts of unlawfulness. I am a good citizen and a church member. However, you are too old for me to control now, and I shall not hold myself responsible for your acts. The proud in spirit should be humbled in the dust, even though it may be by human agency, and Frank Merriwell needs humbling.”
Dyke grinned.
“He’ll get humbling enough,” the young rascal declared. “Wait till the gang gets after him. But I’ll need some money to fix it with the gang. There are seven of them, and they won’t do a thing less than ten dollars each. About a hundred dollars will do the trick.”
“I don’t see where the money is coming from.”
“You’ll have to cough, governor.”
“I? You forget! Why, I have told you plainly that I do not countenance such things. The idea that I would give money to have anything of the kind carried on! I am shocked! But I believe you need a new suit of clothes, my son. I am pleased to see you well dressed. Here is a hundred dollars to purchase a new suit.”
Darius took out a roll of bills and stripped off a fifty, two twenties and a ten, which he passed to Dyke.
“That new suit of clothes will be a great deal warmer for Mr. Frank Merriwell than for me,” grinned the worthy son of a worthy father. “This is all right, governor. You’ll hear something drop some of these dark nights.”
“There, there! Don’t mention such disgraceful proceedings to me again. I am pained at the mere thought. If you need any more money for that suit let me know.”