“Well, of all the big bluffs I ever heard this is the biggest!” he sneered.
“Say, I don’t mind a joke,” said Stella Stanley; “but don’t you think you are carrying this thing a trifle too far, Mr. Merriwell?”
“I would be if it were a joke,” confessed Frank, easily; “but, as it happens to be the sober truth, I think no one has a chance to ask. I will not only pay your fare to Denver, but each one shall receive two weeks salary, which I think you must acknowledge is the proper way to treat you.”
“I’ll believe it when I get my hands on the dough,” said Fowler. “Forty-three thousand fiddlesticks!”
“Any person who doubts my word is at liberty to take a look at this certified check,” said Merry, producing the check and placing it on the little table.
Then they crushed and crowded about that table, staring at the check.
Fowler nudged Harper, to whom he whispered:
“I believe it’s straight, so help me! I’d like to kick myself!”
“Yes, it’s straight,” acknowledged Harper, dolefully. “I am just beginning to realize that we have made fools of ourselves by talking too much.”
“What can we do?”