In a dark corner on the stairs stood a fellow who seemed waiting for something. As Frank passed, this person seized his arm.
“One moment, Merriwell!” he whispered.
It was Cutler Priest.
“All right, Hodge,” said Frank, for Bart, not recognizing Priest, had turned quickly.
“Merriwell, you’re in danger!” whispered Priest. “I came over from the club in the carriage with Manners and Ridgely. Both had been drinking. They were shooting off their chin. Fillmore planned this whole affair.”
“As I thought,” said Merry.
“He’s paid the Jap to do you up.”
“This simply makes my suspicion an assurance.”
“But, from some things Manners let drop, I feel sure that it is not the intention to simply defeat you. The Jap is going to break your bones.”