He stretched out his hand toward Defarge as he spoke, and the eyes of the mad student drooped and closed, while he appeared to be fast asleep. Skelding was awed beyond measure.
“You may speak now,” said Frank. “He will not hear what you say.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Skelding had seen Defarge become quiet and docile beneath the steady gaze of Merriwell’s eyes, and he now understood that Frank had some wonderful power over the fellow.
“Sit down, Skelding,” Merriwell invited, motioning toward a chair. “I shall lock the door to keep intruders away.”
He did so, and found Skelding seated. Merry came and sat down near, saying:
“Perhaps you will be willing to tell me the whole story. You say Defarge blames me because he failed in his society ambitions? Is that right?”
Merry had not spoken of “Bones.” A member of that society never discusses his society outside the secret rooms of the order.
“That is right. Up to the last minute he believed he was sure of going to ‘Bones.’ It drove him daffy when the fifteenth man was chosen and he found himself ignored. He had been drinking for some time, and absinth has obtained its hold on him. Since that he has taken quantities of the stuff, and you see what the result is.”