“Good night, sir,” said Frank, slipping his arm through Diamond’s and turning away.
A hand gripped Merry’s other arm.
“Hold on!” panted a voice. “Don’t leave me! I’m going with you! I’m done for if I don’t get out of here now!”
It was Billy Madison, pale as a ghost, but determined to escape from the snare which had already tangled his wayward feet.
“Good!” said Frank, with keen satisfaction. “Come on!”
The flushed men in evening dress stepped back before them, and they walked from the room, descended the stairs, were helped on with their top-coats, and left the house.
CHAPTER IV
THE OPEN HAND.
Madison took in a deep breath when they were outside. Frank felt the fellow’s arm trembling.
“Perhaps I was a fool!” he said huskily. “Mr. Merriwell, I’m in a bad box!”