Frank Merriwells Chums | Page 5

closed ever since, as
no fellow will occupy it. It is said to be haunted."
This appealed to Frank's love of the sensational. Besides that, he
fancied he saw an opportunity for some sport that was not down in the
programme, and he smiled a bit.
"Of course it isn't haunted," he said. "I don't believe there is a fellow
here who believes in ghosts?"
"I don't."
"Nor I."
"Nor I."
"Such stuff is rot!"
"I don't believe in anything I can't see."
Thus the assembled lads expressed themselves, and Frank smiled again.
"While I do not believe this room is haunted," he said, "I once had a
rather blood-curdling experience with something like a disembodied
spirit--an adventure that came near turning my hair snowy white from
fright and horror. I will tell you about it. The original of my 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