“Yes, I believe you.”
“And you will still help me? You will keep me from drinking absinth if I am tempted?”
“I will,” promised Frank.
CHAPTER XVI.
PASSING OF AN EARTHQUAKE.
“Hello, Bing!” cried Jack Ready, as Ralph Bingham, the big sophomore, drifted into Merriwell’s room, a few days after his victory over Defarge.
“Nice old gal you had out to sup last night after the opera. Theatrical dame, wasn’t she? Belonged to the chorus, I should judge.”
“What the dickens makes you think so?” demanded Ralph, hardly pleased. “Did she look like a chorus girl?”
“Well, she looked something like a chorus lady,” chirped Jack. “Somebody told me she lowered the curtain the night Lincoln was shot.”