sisted 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."

F