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

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The nerve-broken young gambler was like a helpless child in the hands of Merriwell. With ease Frank took away the deadly revolver.

When the two men would have clutched the would-be suicide, Frank waved them back with the gleaming weapon, supporting the panting lad on his shoulder.

“Hands off!” he cried, his voice clear and steady, yet not loud. “Aren’t you satisfied with what you have brought the poor devil to? You shall not touch him!”

“Give me that revolver!” pleaded the shaking youth, reaching out for it.

“Wait a minute,” said Merry. “I want to talk to you.”

Then, half-leading, half-supporting the miserable boy, he crossed the room to a cushioned seat by the fireplace. The two men looked on, uncertain as to what course they should pursue.

“You have made a terrible blunder,” said Frank, as he sat beside the white-faced lad, a hand on his shoulder; “but you cannot undo it by taking your own life.”

“At least, I can escape the consequences, the shame, the disgrace!”

“And prove yourself a coward. You spoke of your mother. Will she be left in poverty by this act of yours?”

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