“Charles Conrad Merriwell.”
This was properly dated.
“We will leave that here on the table—or, rather, you will; and then you will do what I tell you. Just a plunge, and it will all be over. Any man might crave so easy an exit from the world!”
He was again fixing his terrible eyes on the now almost vacant face of Frank’s father, thinking at the same time of the steps he must now take to carry out his plan to its conclusion and secure his own safety.
“You will do all that I tell you?”
“Yes,” Merriwell answered. “Everything!”
CHAPTER XV
INZA TO THE RESCUE.
Spat—whiz—plunk! The game was still on at New London, and Frank Merriwell drove and caged a ball.
The referee’s whistle blew, denoting the close of the last period of the game; and he followed this with the announcement of the scores: