Crash!
The command had come like a pistol-shot. The glass fell instantly, smashing on the polished bar, over which flowed the amber-hued liquid.
“Merriwell?”
Dick Starbright, pale as snow, turned as he gasped the name.
“Starbright!”
There was a world of surprise and reproach in Frank’s voice.
Dick Starbright, standing at the bar of the Fifth Avenue Hotel, had lifted the glass of whisky to his lips when Frank stepped into the room and uttered the sharp command. The big Yale freshman dropped his glass as if it had suddenly burned his fingers.
Frank came forward, his eyes fastened steadily on Dick, who leaned against the bar weakly, his pallor giving place to a flush of shame.
“This is a surprise,” said Merry.
“Rather!” choked Dick.