As Herrick dropped off at the other end of the table, Merriwell quietly grasped Madison’s arm, speaking calmly:
“Take the advice of one who would be your friend; play no more in this place. Remember the young fellow who tried to blow a hole in his head, a short time ago.”
Madison turned pale.
Men had leaped up as Charley Herrick was flung across the faro-table. Servants rushed forward. Frowning faces surrounded Frank Merriwell. Somebody said:
“Put him out!”
Herrick jumped up and started for Frank, but three men held him off, speaking to him in a warning way. Other men attempted to take hold of Frank.
“Be kind enough to keep your hands off!” spoke Frank quietly, clearly, distinctly, his eyes flashing and the hot color flaming in his cheeks. “If you want a nasty row, just grab me. If you will have it quiet, keep off!”
There was something in his manner that held them off for a moment. Herrick tried to break away.
“If I could get hold of him, I’d break the young pup in two!” he snarled.
“I’ll be pleased to give you an opportunity to try that trick, sir, anywhere outside of this house. I do not care to get into trouble here, for I’d not have it known for any amount of money that I visited such a place.”