Читать книгу Frank Merriwell's Trust; Or, Never Say Die онлайн

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Herrick offered cigars. Madison took one and Diamond followed suit. Merry was on the verge of refusing, but changed his mind and accepted one. Then Herrick struck a match and held it solicitously for Merry to start his cigar.

“I think I’ll take a dry smoke,” said Frank. “Anyhow, I’ll not light up now.”

“Hold steady!” cried Madison, plunging the end of his weed into the flame and beginning to puff at it.

Diamond also lighted his cigar, and Herrick joined them, observing:

“You’ll find the smoke rather thick, Mr. Merriwell, if you don’t fire up.”

They were on Fifth Avenue, rolling northward. The theaters were out, and cabs and hansoms were thick on the avenue, taking home those who had visited the different playhouses. Their gleaming yellow lamps flitted hither and thither, blinking and vanishing and blinking into view again like huge fireflies. Pedestrians were plentiful. The night was clear and cool, with millions of white stars scattered over the blue vault of the sky. Madison began to sing.