And Frank Merriwell walked in!
Agnew half-rose out of his chair.
"Sit down!" Merriwell urged, closing the door behind him.
Then he turned the key in the lock and dropped the key into his pocket.
"What do you mean by that?" starting to his feet in an agitated way.
"Sit down!" Frank again commanded, in a smooth, quiet tone, which, however, sounded very ominous. Agnew looked toward the closed window, and then dropped limply into the chair.
"It's two stories down, and a hard pavement below that window. I'd advise you, Agnew, not to pitch yourself out of that on your head. It would probably give the undertaker a job."
Agnew pushed the cards about, without knowing what he did, and stared at Merriwell, his face white and his eyes anxious. He was afraid of Merriwell. Of all the men at Yale, Merriwell was the one he most feared. And his heart told him that there was something serious back of this unexpected call.
"I'm glad to find you in," said Frank, "for I want to have a talk with you. I will take this chair, with your leave. You won't mind if I come to the point at once?"
"I don't know what you're driving at, and I think you must be drunk or luny to come into a fellow's room and lock him in! If you have an idea that there is anything funny about this, I'm pleased to tell you that there isn't."