Frank Merriwells Chums | Page 5

ghost happened to be a fellow who committed suicide, and he----"
"Say, hold on!" gurgled Wat Snell, who had declared that believing in ghosts was "all rot." "What are we here for--to listen to ghost stories or to have a little picnic?"
"Oh, drop your ghost yam," said George Harris, who had asserted that he did not believe in anything he could not see. "You may tell it to us some other time."
"But this is a really interesting story," insisted Frank. "You see, the fellow shot himself three times, and when he did not die quickly enough to be suited, he cut his throat from ear to ear, and his specter was a most ghastly-appearing object, bleeding from the bullet wounds and having a gash across its throat from----"
"Say, will you let up!" gasped Harris. "If you don't, I'll get out!"
"Oh, I don't want to break up this jolly gathering," said Frank, his eyes twinkling, "but I was just going to tell how the ghost----"
"Cheese it!" interrupted Sam Winslow. "Talk about something besides ghosts, will you? You are not given to dwelling on such unpleasant subjects, Merriwell."
"But I thought you fellows didn't take any stock in ghosts?"
"We don't," grinned Harvey Dare; "and that's just why we don't want to hear about 'em."
"We've got something else to do besides listen to yarns," said Harris. "Let's proceed to gorge." And he began opening the box that sat on the table.
CHAPTER III.
AN IRRESISTIBLE TEMPTATION.
"Harris is lucky," said Sam Winslow. "His folks send him a box every now and then, and he gets it through old Carter, at the village."
"I have hard enough time smuggling it in," said Harris, "and I share when I get it here."
"For which we may well call ourselves lucky dogs," smiled Harvey Dare. "A fellow gets awfully weary of the regular rations they have here."
"That's right," agreed Frank. "I often long for the flesh pots of Egypt, or almost anything in the way of a change of fare."
"Well, here's where you get it--if you'll agree not to spring any more ghost yarns on us," said Harris. "Just look over this collection of palate ticklers, fellows."
"Fruit cake!" gasped Sam, delightedly. "Oh, how my stomach yearns for it!"
"Cream pie!" ejaculated Wat Snell. "Yum! yum! Somebody please hold me!"
"Tarts!" panted Harvey Dare. "Oh, I won't do a thing to them!"
"Look at the cookies and assorted good stuff!" murmured Bart, ecstatically. "I shall be ready to perish without a tremor after this!"
"Permit me to do the honors," said Harris, grandly. "Just nominate your poison, and I will deal it out."
So each one called for what he desired, and Harris supplied them, using a pocket-knife with which to cut the cake and pie.
"Aren't you glad you came, Merriwell?" asked Sam, with his mouth full of fruit cake.
"Sure," smiled Frank, as he helped himself. "I shall not regret it, if it gives me indigestion."
Frank believed Wat Snell was a sneak, but he did not fancy it would be at all necessary to accept the fellow as a friend just because they had met under such circumstances. He meant to use Snell well, and let it go at that.
The boys thoroughly enjoyed their clandestine feast. It was a luxury a hundred times dearer than a feast from similar things could have been had there been no secrecy about it and had it been perfectly allowable.
They gorged themselves till they could eat no more, and the contents of the box proved none too plentiful for their ravenous appetites. When they had finished, nothing but a few crumbs were left.
"There," sighed Harvey Dare, "I haven't felt so full as this before since the last time Harris had a box."
"Nor I," said Wat Snell, lighting a cigarette. "Have one, Merriwell?"
Frank declined to smoke, but his example was not followed by any of the other lads. Each one took a cigarette and "fired up."
"You ought to smoke, Merriwell," said Dare. "There's lots of pleasure in it."
"Perhaps so," admitted Frank; "but I don't care for it, and, as it is against the rules, it keeps me out of trouble by not smoking."
"It's against the rules to indulge in this kind of a feast, old man. You can't be too much of a stickler for rules."
"It doesn't do to be too goody-good," put in Snell, insinuatingly. "Such rubbish doesn't go with the fellows."
"I don't think any one can accuse me of playing the goody-good," said Frank, quietly. "I like fun as well as any one, as you all know, but I do not care for cigarettes, and so I do not smoke them. I don't wish to take any credit to myself, so I make no claim to resisting a temptation, for they are no temptation to me."
"Lots of fellows smoke who do not like cigarettes," assured Sam Winslow.
"Well, I can't understand why they