“Yes, he will,” declared Jack. “Besides, he has always been a mascot to me, and I need one just now.” Frank’s ears were wide open, and he fancied he understood the meaning of this talk, in which case he was more than ever alarmed for Diamond. “If I could get him away and have a talk with him,” thought Frank, “I’d soon be able to learn the truth.” But the Southerner was “out for a racket,” and Frank soon saw it would be useless to try to induce him to go quietly to a room in the Fifth Avenue Hotel. “We’re fooling away lots of time here,” said Herrick impatiently. “We’ve hired this cab, too.” “Well, I can pay!” cried Diamond sharply. “Don’t let that worry you, Charley.” “That’s the stuff!” declared Madison. “Now will you be good? Come on, I want that drink. Bring Mr. Merriwell along, Jack. We’ll fill him to the chin.” “You’ll have a hard time to do that,” asserted Diamond, as he permitted Madison to pull him across the sidewalk, at the same time clinging fast to Frank’s arm. “Why?” asked the yellow-haired chap. “Is he a tank?” “No; he’s a total abstainer.” Herrick was heard to mutter something beneath his breath. “Total fiddlesticks!” gurgled Madison. “Then he’d better get out of New York right away. If he doesn’t, they’ll have him on exhibition.” “Of course he will take one drink with us,” said Herrick persuasively. “One never hurt anybody, and he’ll consent to take a drink with an old friend like you, Jack.” “Tell me if he does!” said Diamond. “It will be soft stuff.” “Soft stuff is good only for soft persons,” declared the man with the black mustache, as they entered the hotel and approached the bar. “I hope he isn’t in that class.” Merriwell’s dislike for the man was growing, and he had noted with surprise and dismay that both of these men spoke to the Virginian in a most familiar manner, addressing him as Jack. “He’s in bad company,” Merry decided. They lined up at the polished bar. “Oh, gimme a highball!” chirped Madison, his silk hat on the back of his head. “What are you absorbing, gentlemen?” “I’ll take a little whisky,” said Herrick. Frank was watching Diamond, and now Jack said to the barkeeper: “I want a mint julep, Ned; you know how to put ’em together.” “And our friend Mr. Merriwell,” spoke Herrick, placing a hand on Frank’s shoulder, “will he have a mixed drink, or will he take his straight, with me?” “I told you he didn’t drink!” Diamond somewhat petulantly cried. “What’s the use to keep asking him, Charley?” “But I have decided to take a drink this time,” said Frank, causing the Virginian to nearly collapse. “Barkeeper, I’ll take a gin.” Frank had decided that Jack Diamond was in danger. He could not understand how the Virginian happened to be in New York, and in such a condition. No more could he understand the familiar friendship of Diamond and his two companions. Jack was not a fellow to pick up friends anywhere, and get on “first-name terms” with them in short order.