“That’s all right,” said Lynch, hastily catching up the sheets of paper. “Don’t be such a rubberneck, Bern.”
Having made sure that the ink was dry upon the paper, Mike carefully placed the sheets together, folded them, and slipped them into an envelope.
“Now, if you’ll let me sit there a moment, Wolfe,” he suggested.
Once more sitting down, Lynch addressed the envelope, using the ink from the larger bottle. Bern peered inquisitively over Mike’s shoulder.
“Eh?” he ejaculated. “Richard Merriwell? Say, what the dickens are you writing to Dick Merriwell?”
With a queer, grave smile, Lynch found a stamp and affixed it to the envelope.
“It won’t hurt you if you don’t know, Bern,” he answered.
“But I have a right to know,” spluttered Wolfe. “If I had thought you were writing anything to him, you’d never got my autograph on it.”
“Make yourself comfortable,” said Mike, as he tossed aside his dressing gown and took a coat from his wardrobe. “I’m going to step down to the mail box.”
“Needn’t trouble yourself so much,” said Wolfe, with sudden eagerness. “You’re not feeling well, Mike. Give me the letter. I’ll mail it.”
“I wouldn’t trust you,” he said. “I wouldn’t trust any one. I’m going to mail it myself. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Well, what does it mean?” growled Wolfe, as Lynch went out with the letter in his hand.
When Mike returned he was accompanied by Duncan Ditson and Mel Dagett. The moment they were in the room and the door was closed, Dunc turned fiercely on Mel.
“Confound you!” he cried. “I tell you I haven’t any money! I tell you I can’t pay! I’m broke—dead broke! You know it! You know what happened at Providence. I raked up every dollar I could raise to bet against Umpty-ten, and lost.”
“Oh, yes, I know that,” sneered Dagett. “I let you have part of the money. Didn’t I lose, too? That’s why I want you to pay me. I need it. I’m strapped.”
“Tell that to your grandmother,” sneered Dunc. “You’re not strapped. Why, you’ve been loaning money at twenty per cent a month for the last five months. You’ve bled everybody you could.”
“But I’ve been unfortunate,” whined Mel. “I took your advice on that Brown game, and you see what happened. You agreed to pay me a week ago. I’ve been putting it off to give you time. You said you’d have money to-day.”