"Oh, pop—don't kick me, pop! You are killing me! Oh, Heaven! Oh, oh, oh!"
Frank backed off, leaped forward, planted his shoulder against the door.
Crash!—it fell before him, and he burst into the room.
On the floor lay Cassie, face downward, while over her stood her father, the picture of insane rage, his foot lifted to kick her again.
Forward shot Merriwell, catching the mad actor by the neck, snatching him aside, pinning him against the partition.
"You miserable old devil!" grated Frank, quivering with such emotion as he had not felt before in many months. "You sodden old brute! You deserve to be hanged!"
Old Dan gasped for breath.
The rest of the company, with the exception of Sargent and Havener, came pouring into the little room, or crowded to the door to look in.
"She's an ungrateful hussy!" snarled old Dan. "She deserved it! She told you I was drinking! You took the stuff away, but I got it back. I had a friend, and he told me where you put it."
On a shelf the empty bottle was standing.