“I fear you are in an unfortunate predicament,” said Burns. “You will have to drink with them.”
“I never drink,” said Merry, quietly.
“Yer can’t refuse here,” declared the man who had offered to buy the drinks. “It’s a mortal insult ter refuse ter drink hyar.”
“I never took a drink in my life, gentlemen,” said Merriwell, speaking calmly, and distinctly, “and I shall not begin now. You will have to excuse me.”
He started to force his way through the crowd. A hand reached out to clutch him, and he wheeled like a flash toward the man, at whom he pointed squarely, crying:
“Take off that false beard! If you are a man, show your face! You are in disguise! I believe you are a criminal who does not dare show his face!”
His ringing words drew the attention of the crowd to the man whom he accused.
Merry improved the opportunity and hurried his friends and Burns toward the door. Before the gang was aware of it, they were out of the saloon, and Frank breathed his relief.
Not till they had reached the theater did a thought come to Frank that made him regret his hasty departure from the saloon.
“Heavens!” he exclaimed. “I believe the man who wore the false beard was the same one who entered my room at the hotel by means of the rope!”