had told "shady" yarns, and then they had called for one from Frank. He
started to tell one, working up to the point with all the skill of which
he was capable. He had them breathless, ready to shout with laughter
when the point was reached. He drew them on and on with all the skill of
which he was capable. And then, just as the climax was reached, he
suddenly realized just what he was about to say. A thought came to him
that made his heart give a great jump.

"What if my mother were listening?"

That was the thought. His mother was dead, but her influence was over
him. A second thought followed. Many times he had seemed to feel her
hovering near. Perhaps she was listening! Perhaps she was hearing all
that he was saying!

Frank Merriwell stopped and stood quite still. At first he was very
pale, and then came a rush of blood to his face. He turned crimson with
shame and hung his head.

His companions looked at him in astonishment. They could not understand
what had happened. Some of them cried, "Go on! go on!"

After some seconds he tried to speak. At first he choked and could say
nothing articulate. After a little, he muttered:

"I can't go on--I can't finish the story! You'll have to excuse me,
fellows! I'm not feeling well!"

And he withdrew from the jolly party as soon as possible.