R XXXIII. THE VOICE OF THE TEMPTER.
CHAPTER XXXIV. A TROUBLED MIND.
CHAPTER XXXV. REMORSE.
CHAPTER XXXVI. A FRIEND WORTH HAVING.
CHAPTER XXXVII. A PROTEST.
CHAPTER XXXVIII. A CONFESSION.
CHAPTER XXXIX. JOLTS FOR BULLIES.
CHAPTER XL. A DETERMINED FRONT.
CHAPTER XLI. THE HOUR AND THE MAN.

FRANK MERRIWELL'S SON.

CHAPTER I.

A NEW LIFE.

Lizette, the French nurse, came softly and lightly down the stairs and
found Frank Merriwell pacing the library floor, while Bart Hodge and
Elsie Bellwood talked to him soothingly.

"Madame will see you now, saire," said the nurse, with a little curtsy.
"Ze doctaire he is gone now some time. Madame she is comforterbill. She
say she see you--alone."

Frank was all eagerness to go. He bounded up the stairs, two at a time,
scarcely heeding the white-capped nurse, who hurried after him, softly
calling:

"Not on ze rush, saire. You make ze rush, you gif madame ze start."

"That's so," muttered Merry, checking himself at the head of the stairs
and waiting for the cautious nurse. "Lizette, lead the way."

The girl, stepping softly as a cat, gently opened a door for him, thus
revealing a chamber where the light was softened by drawn window shades.
Within that chamber Mrs. Merriwell reclined amid the snowy pillows of a
broad bed.

"Ze mastaire is here, madame," said the nurse, as Frank entered.

In a moment Merry was bending over his wife.

Something small and pink, in a soft white garment, nestled on her arm.
It uttered a weak little cry--the cry of a new life in the great
seething world--which was sweet music to the pale woman on the bed and
the anxious man who bent over her.

"Oh, Frank," murmured Inza, "he's calling to you! He knows his father
has come."

Merriwell kissed her lightly, softly, tenderly. Then, with that
indescribable light in his eyes, he gazed long and fondly at the babe.

"It's a boy, Inza!" he murmured. "Just as you wished!"

"Just as I wished for your sake, Frank," she said. "I knew you wanted a
son. This is the happiest moment of my life, for I have given him to
you."

"A son!" exclaimed Frank softly, as he straightened up and threw his
splendid shoulders back. "Why, think of it, Inza, I'm a father--and you
are the dearest, sweetest, handsomest, noblest little mother in all the
world!"

The nurse ventured to speak.

"Madame is so well! Madame is so strong! It is wonderful! It is grand!"

"