“Thank you,” bowed the gambler. “The man at the door will be notified not to admit you again, so you can save time by not taking the trouble to call.” “And you might have spared your breath, for there was not the least danger that I would ever again present myself at your door.” “Still, I wish you to understand that I have no feelings against you. In fact, having read about you in the papers, I learned to admire you some time ago. If we were to meet elsewhere, I’d take pleasure in chatting with you a while. Good night, Mr. Merriwell.” “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!” “How?” Merry asked. “I’ve dropped considerable money in that place.” “Too bad!” “And I hoped to get it back.” “Your chance of doing so was small.” “I know; but there was a chance. Now there is none. And, by Heaven! I must get that money back!” He stopped on the sidewalk. “I’m going back!” he declared. “I must do it, Merriwell! I must win that money back!” “You’ll lose more, Madison.” “I must take the chance, for I might win. You don’t know—you don’t understand. I must win that money back!” Frank fancied he did understand. “Don’t forget Collins,” he warned. “Madison, if you are in need of a small sum, it may be that we can fix it, somehow.” The darkness hid the flush that rushed to Billy Madison’s face. “I couldn’t get what I need any other way than to win it where I lost it,” he declared huskily. Then Frank knew that Madison was in a desperate strait, and he pitied the fellow. “You shall not go back into that shark’s hole to-night,” he asserted, keeping hold of Billy’s arm. “We’ll talk it over. How much are you behind, man?” “Nearly a thousand dollars,” answered the yellow-haired youth, all his false buoyancy gone now. “No more than that?” asked Frank, with apparent relief. “It’s as bad as ten times the sum. I can’t make it up.” “Can you give any security?” “My word, and I don’t know a man on earth who will take it for that amount.” “I will.” “You?” “Yes.” “Why, will you let me have the money?” “If you will make me a promise.” “What promise?”