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

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For the first time in his life Merry had brought himself to make such an application to his father. And now it was not for his own sake, but for the unfortunate boy, Harry Collins.

Having seen that the message was despatched without delay, Frank returned to his room and turned in for the night, having seen that Jack was still asleep.

Diamond slept late the following morning, but Merry was up early, as usual, took a cold plunge, a rub-down, and some brisk exercise before awakening Jack.

The Virginian was dejected enough when he opened his eyes to the morning light. He had a splitting headache, while his mouth was dry as a chip, and there seemed to be a coat of fur on his tongue.

“Merriwell,” he said solemnly, “a man is a thundering fool to drink!”

“It’s a good thing you’ve found that out,” smiled Frank. “But you want to remember it. Lots of men find it out, but they have a way of forgetting quickly.”

“I think this will do me very well,” declared Jack.

“Wouldn’t you like a big drink of whisky?” Merry asked.