"Well, it's about Winnie!" said Badger bluntly. Whereupon, in a few words, he told his story.
"That rather stumps me, Badger," Frank admitted. "I think, though, that the straight way is the best. If you're willing, I will see Lee in your behalf. I shall have to admit to him that you were intoxicated at that time, but I'll try to make him see that you are pretty straight goods, for all of that. Perhaps a few words from one who knows you will be helpful."
"If you will, Merry, I can't ever thank you enough. It will be about as big a favor, I allow, as one man ever did for another, and I sha'n't forget it."
Merriwell looked at his watch.
"I can't go to his office this afternoon, but I'll see him at his house to-night. I may be late getting there, but I'll try to time it to be there when he gets home from his club."
Badger went away as if walking on air. He could hardly think of anything else throughout the remainder of the day, and night found him in the vicinity of the Lee home, even though he had a feeling that Merriwell would prefer he should keep away from there until the result of the promised interview was known.
"I wish Merry would hurry," he thought, as he finally advanced to the fence, drawn there by his intense desire to be near to Winnie. "I'll speak to him before he goes in, and ask him to come right out as soon as possible with the news."
As he stood thus by the fence, a light step sounded, and, looking over, he recognized in the dim light the form of Winnie Lee. He was by her side at a bound.
"You must not stand by that note!" he pleadingly began. "I allow that you will see, when you think of it, that it isn't right by me!"
He did not attempt to touch her or stoop toward her. She had, in writing that letter, forbidden familiarities. Their relations toward each other were unchanged. He remembered the ring in his pocket.