Frank Merriwell's Danger | Project Gutenberg (2024)

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The Medal Library

Famous Copyrighted Stories
for Boys, by Famous Authors

PUBLISHED EVERY WEEK

This is an ideal line for boys of all ages. It contains juvenilemasterpieces by the most popular writers of interestingfiction for boys. Among these may be mentioned the worksof Burt L. Standish, detailing the adventures of Frank Merriwell,the hero, of whom every American boy has read with admiration.Frank is a truly representative American lad, full of characterand a strong determination to do right at any cost. Then, there arethe works of Horatio Alger, Jr., whose keen insight into the minds ofthe boys of our country has enabled him to write a series of the mostinteresting tales ever published. This line also contains some of thebest works of Oliver Optic, another author whose entire life was devotedto writing books that would tend to interest and elevate our boys.

To Be Published During March

250. Neka, the Boy Conjurer. By Capt. Ralph Bonehill.
249. The Young Bridge Tender. By Arthur M. Winfield.
248. The West Point Boys. By Lieut. Frederick Garrison, U.S.A.
247. Frank Merriwell’s Secret. By Burt L. Standish.
246. Rob Ranger’s Cowboy Days. By Lieut. Lounsberry.

To Be Published During February

245. The Red Rover. By J. Fenimore Cooper.
244. Frank Merriwell’s Return to Yale. By Burt L. Standish.
243. Adrift in New York. By Horatio Alger, Jr.
242. The Rival Canoe Boys. By St. George Rathborne.

To Be Published During January

241. The Tour of the Zero Club. By Capt. R. Bonehill.
240. Frank Merriwell’s Champions. By Burt L. Standish.
239. The Two Admirals. By J. Fenimore Cooper.
238. A Cadet’s Honor. By Lieut. Fred’k Garrison, U.S.A.

237. Frank Merriwell’s Skill. By Burt L. Standish.
236. Rob Ranger’s Mine. By Lieut. Lounsberry.
235. The Young Carthaginian. By G. A. Henty.
234. The Store Boy. By Horatio Alger, Jr.
233. Frank Merriwell’s Athletes. By Burt L. Standish.
232. The Valley of Mystery. By Henry Harrison Lewis.
231—Paddling Under Palmettos. By St. George Rathborne.
230—Off for West Point. By Lieut. Fred’k Garrison, U.S.A.
229—Frank Merriwell’s Daring. By Burt L. Standish.
228—The Cash Boy. By Horatio Alger, Jr.
227—In Freedom’s Cause. By G. A. Henty.
226—Tom Havens With the White Squadron. By Lieut. Orton.
225—Frank Merriwell’s Courage. By Burt L. Standish.
224—Yankee Boys in Japan. By Henry Harrison Lewis.
223—In Fort and Prison. By William Murray Graydon.
222—A West Point Treasure. By Lieut. Fred’k Garrison, U.S.A.
221—The Young Outlaw. By Horatio Alger, Jr.
220—The Gulf Cruisers. By St. George Rathborne.
219—Tom Truxton’s Ocean Trip. By Lieut. Lounsberry.
218—Tom Truxton’s School Days. By Lieut. Lounsberry.
217—Frank Merriwell’s Bicycle Tour. By Burt L. Standish.
216—Campaigning With Braddock. By William Murray Graydon.
215—With Clive in India. By G. A. Henty.
214—On Guard. By Lieut. Frederick Garrison, U.S.A.
213—Frank Merriwell’s Races. By Burt L. Standish.
212—Julius, the Street Boy. By Horatio Alger, Jr.
211—Buck Badger’s Ranch. By Russell Williams.
210—Sturdy and Strong. By G. A. Henty.
209—Frank Merriwell’s Sports Afield. By Burt L. Standish.
208—The Treasure of the Golden Crater. By Lieut. Lounsberry.
207—Shifting Winds. By St. George Rathborne.
206—Jungles and Traitors. By Wm. Murray Graydon.
205—Frank Merriwell at Yale. By Burt L. Standish.
204—Under Drake’s Flag. By G. A. Henty.
203—Last Chance Mine. By Lieut James K. Orton.
202—Risen From the Ranks. By Horatio Alger, Jr.
201—Frank Merriwell in Europe. By Burt L. Standish.
200—The Fight for a Pennant. By Frank Merriwell.
199—The Golden Canon. By G. A. Henty.
198—Only an Irish Boy. By Horatio Alger, Jr.
197—Frank Merriwell’s Hunting Tour. By Burt L. Standish.
196—Zip, the Acrobat. By Victor St. Clair.
195—The Lion of the North. By G. A. Henty.
194—The White Mustang. By Edward S. Ellis.
193—Frank Merriwell’s Bravery. By Burt L. Standish.
192—Tom, the Bootblack. By Horatio Alger, Jr.
191—The Rivals of the Diamond. By Russell Williams.
190—The Cat of Bubastes. By G. A. Henty.
189—Frank Merriwell Down South. By Burt L. Standish.
188—From Street to Mansion. By Frank H. Stauffer.
187—Bound to Rise. By Horatio Alger, Jr.
186—On the Trail of Geronimo. By Edward S. Ellis.
185—For the Temple. By G. A. Henty.
184—Frank Merriwell’s Trip West. By Burt L. Standish.

By BURT L. STANDISH

Author of “Frank Merriwell’s School Days,” “Frank
Merriwell’s Chums,” “Frank Merriwell’s Foes,” “Frank
Merriwell’s Trip West,” “Frank Merriwell Down
South,” “Frank Merriwell’s Hunting Tour,” “Frank
Merriwell’s Bravery,” “Frank Merriwell in Europe,” etc.

STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS
238 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK CITY

CHAPTER I.

OUT FOR A CRUISE.

Spring!

All through the long winter the only green thing to beseen on the Yale campus was the festive freshman, butnow, on this mild, sunny April day, which was a promiseof June soon to come, a few blades of grass were strugglingto appear.

It was a day to bring everybody out. For the firsttime one could realize that winter was really a thing ofthe past.

At noon the campus swarmed and the fence was linedwith roosters. The juniors came out and smoked their bigEnglish pipes, and did their best to imitate the gravenessand dignity of the seniors. The sophom*ores loaded theirline of fence, joking, laughing and guying the freshmen.And the freshmen gamboled like young colts just turnedout to pasture, betraying their absolute “newness” byevery word and act.

Big Bruce Browning smoked in lazy abandon, leaningagainst a post, feeling far too tired to climb to a seat uponthe top rail. Bink Stubbs was whittling with a brand-newknife, while Danny Griswold whistled a rollicking tune.Dismal Jones actually wore an expression on his face thatwas as near perfect satisfaction and happiness as anyonehad ever seen on his long countenance. “Lucy” Little,[Pg 6]with a necktie “loud enough to jar the bricks out of SouthMiddle,” was doing his best to see how many packagesof cigarettes he could smoke in five minutes.

Everywhere the talk was baseball. Who would makethe team? Would it be as strong as the year before? andwould they win out from Harvard?

It was pretty certain Harvard would have an exceptionallystrong team. The material to choose from wasbetter than ever before, and Harvard was “making abrace” in all directions. Yale had won the last footballgame from Harvard more by the wonderful work of oneman than by the superior strength of her eleven, and theCambridge lads were thirsting for revenge.

The man who seemed to stand head and shouldersabove all others in Yale sports and athletics was FrankMerriwell. But Merriwell had become a “greasy grind”during the winter, and there were those who prophesiedthat he was satisfied with his fame, and would retire onhis laurels. It was even reported that he was ambitious tobe valedictorian, and it was known that he could go toeither Bones or Keys, as he might choose, which was amost remarkable state of affairs, as there were hundredsof good men and true, with hearts full of ambition, whocould not reach either.

All along Merriwell had refused to say anything abouthis plans, and he would not talk baseball. He had beendrawn into the football game with Harvard through forceof circ*mstances, and against his inclination, so it was notstrange that the general belief was that he might refuseto become the leading “twirler” for Yale that season.

It was generally conceded by Merriwell’s friends andfoes alike that his refusal to play would be a great blow toYale. Hugh Heffiner and Dad Hicks, the old timers, weregone, and Merriwell was the only man left who had beentried by Yale and not found wanting.

[Pg 7]

True, there was some new material. Walbert, an Andoverman, was a promising candidate; and Haggerty,who had come to Yale after being dropped at straight-lacedlittle Williams for some thoughtless prank, wassaid to be a great “southpaw” twirler.

But what Yale wanted was steady, reliable material inwhich confidence could be placed. The new men mightshow up all right when the time came, but what if theydid not? The “if” was in the way.

So baseball was the theme on this bright April day, andthe enthusiasm which the game always arouses amongthe “cranks” was beginning to make itself manifest.

While they were talking of him, Frank Merriwell appeared.He looked trim and well-groomed. It was oneof his peculiarities that he always looked as if he had justemerged from a bath.

Barely was Frank upon the campus before Harry Rattleton,his old-time chum, rushed up and caught him bythe arm.

“Looking for you, old man—looking for you!” he excitedlysputtered. “There’s tomething on sap—I meansomething on tap.”

“You know I never drink beer,” smiled Frank.

“Never mind—t’ain’t beer,” Harry rattled on. “Thisis just the day, isn’t it?”

“Just the day for what?”

“Cruise.”

“What sort of a cruise?”

“On the sound. I’ve got a cat.”

“A cat? Well, what has a cat to do with a cruise onthe sound?”

“I mean a batcoat—no, no, a catboat! Bought heryesterday.”

“Oh! I must say you are starting early.”

“None too early. And this is just the day for a sail.[Pg 8]We can have a glorious afternoon on the sound. Whatdo you say to it, old man?”

“Who is going?”

“Anybody you want. We’ll take along Browning andDiamond.”

“I don’t think I ought to spend the time.”

“Oh, come off! You have been cramming like a fiendall winter, and an afternoon’s outing is just what youneed. You can’t say no. Think of the sport.”

Frank did think of it. He knew it was true he had becomea “dig,” and he felt that a sail on the sound woulddo him good. It would serve as a relaxation for half aday, and he could return to his studies with fresh energyon the morrow.

All at once he turned on Harry, exclaiming:

“I am with you, old fellow!”

“You will go?”

“Dead sure. I’ll be able to study all the better for itafterward.”

“That’s the talk, Merry! Who’ll we take?”

“Name your own crew.”

“Diamond and Browning.”

“They’re all right. What say if I get Hodge and takehim along?”

“Get him. That will make just the right sort of a crew.I’ll get a lunch, and we’ll meet at the New Haven YachtClubhouse. The Jolly Sport is moored off the clubhouse.We’ll all get down there as soon as possible. Iknow Browning and Diamond will go when they knowyou are coming along, Frank. You go for Hodge, andI’ll look after the others.”

In this way it was settled. Frank started to get BartHodge, another old chum, who roomed at a distance.Hodge had passed examinations successfully, and was a[Pg 9]Yale student at last. Rattleton made for Browning, whostill leaned in solemn stateliness against the fence.

Rattleton and Diamond were on the Jolly Sport, gettingher in trim, when Frank and Bart appeared.

“Where’s Browning?” shouted Frank.

“Coming,” Harry called back.

“So’s Christmas, but it’ll be a long time getting here.If you really expect that fellow to sail with us this afternoon,you should have brought him along.”

“We can’t waste the afternoon waiting for him,” saidJack, impatiently.

Frank and Bart got on board the boat, and then Bruceappeared, perspiring and staggering under a heavy load,for he carried a huge basket in either hand.

“Dat the whickens—I mean, what the dickens has hethere?” cried Harry. “Oh, I know, the lunch!”

“That’s it!” exclaimed Frank. “We were smart not tothink of that. But he has brought enough to provisionthe Jolly Sport for a week’s cruise.”

“Hurry up, Browning!” shouted Jack, testily. “We’vewaited long enough for you.”

“Oh, fall overboard and cool off!” flung back the bigfellow, who seemed a bit out of sorts himself from theexertion. “You’re always in a hurry.”

“What have you there, anyway?” asked Frank, asBruce came on board.

“Beer.”

“Beer?” shouted all the lads.

“Sandwiches.”

“Then it’s not all beer?”

“Most of it is.”

“That’s all right,” said Diamond, beginning to looksatisfied. “We’ll take care of it.”

“Oh, I don’t know!” grunted Browning. “I brought[Pg 10]it along for myself. Supposed you chaps would bringyour own beer and provisions.”

“You don’t mean to say you brought all that stuff inthose two great baskets for yourself and no one else?”

“Why not?”

“How long do you think this cruise will last?”

“Can’t tell about that.”

“You’ll divvy, or we’ll put you in irons and cast youinto the hold!” declared Rattleton. “I’m owner and captainof this vessel, and what I say goes. See?”

To this Bruce simply grunted.

The baskets were stowed as snugly as possible, andthen Rattleton began to give orders.

“Haul away!” he cried. “Haul away on the throathalyards! Up with the peak! That’s right. Slack off thesheet a bit, Diamond. Lay her a bit more to port!Steady, so!”

The tide was running out, and the wind was light, butthe Jolly Sport seemed eager to get out into the sound,and was soon running down past an anchored fishing vesselat good speed.

“Well, this is great!” muttered Hodge, as he lay backcomfortably, lighting a cigar.

Down past the fort in Indian Hill they slipped, steeredacross to the old lighthouse, and tacked into the sound.

“Hurrah!” cried Skipper Rattleton. “The breeze iswith us, boys!”

Then he sang a snatch of “A Life on the Ocean Wave.”

“What do you think of my singing?” he asked. “It’sentirely by ear.”

“Great heavens!” cried Merry, tragically. “That explainsit!”

“Explains what?”

“Why, I didn’t think it possibly could be by mouth.”

[Pg 11]

Browning grunted. It was as near as he could cometo laughing without exerting himself.

The boys took off their coats and prepared to enjoylife. All fell to smoking, with the exception of Frank.

“Going to pitch on the nine this spring, Merry?” askedBart.

“I may,” answered Frank. “I was practicing yesterday,and I threw the ball a mile.”

“What’s that? Threw a baseball a mile? Oh, come off!”

“You see, I threw it at a mark.”

“Well?”

“I missed the mark.”

“What of that?”

“Isn’t a miss as good as a mile?” chuckled Frank.

Rattleton came near having a fit.

“If this keeps up,” said Diamond, “there will be a lotof maniacs on board before the Jolly Sport sails back toNew Haven.”

As they passed a puffing tug, an old salt hailed them:

“Better be careful, boys,” he called.

“Careful? What for?”

“There’ll be a reg’ler nor’wester to-night. This is aweather breeder.”

“All right, cap,” returned Frank. “We’ll be back beforenight.”

And they did not think of the warning afterward.

Away down the harbor ran the Jolly Sport. The boyssmoked, laughed, sang and joked. It was like a midsummerday. They took the East Channel out towardBrandford Point, and then set their course toward theThimble Islands.

After a time the wind freshened a little, and they puton their coats. The Thimbles were seen glistening in thebright sunshine. Harry had brought along a glass, andthey took turns peering off toward the islands, of which[Pg 12]there are said to be three hundred and sixty-five, one foreach day in the year.

The wind rose steadily till they had a “spanking breeze,”and the catboat danced along right merrily.

“Perhaps we hadn’t better try to make the islands,”said Frank, but the others cried him down.

“What’s the matter with you?” they demanded. “Thisis a beautiful breeze. Of course, we’ll go to the Thimbles.”

They were enthusiastic, for the way the Jolly Sportreeled along was exhilarating. Soon the glistening islandsgrew to bits of green and then took on definite shapes.

“Look at that schooner yonder,” said Jack. “Isn’t shea queer-looking craft?”

He pointed out a black two-master that was running upinto the sound. There was something rakish about theslant of the masts, and the vessel seemed to creep overthe water in a stealthy fashion. The boys watched herwith increasing interest.

“Makes me think of some of the stories of pirate vessels,”said Bart.

“Jingoes!” exclaimed Diamond. “She does look likea pirate!”

“But the days of pirates are past,” said Harry. “Probablyshe is a fishing vessel.”

“Guess not,” said Frank. “She does not look like afisherman. There is something mysterious in her appearance.”

“You know Capt. Kidd ran in here something over ahundred years ago and landed on the Thimbles,” Harryreminded. “He hid his vessel behind the rocky islands andburied his treasure where he and no one else has sincebeen able to find it. His ‘punch bowl’ and initials remainto prove that he really did come in here.”

“Imagine we are living in the days of pirates,” said[Pg 13]Diamond, his eyes sparkling. “Imagine that fellow comingyonder is one.”

“We’d be headed the other way, instead of bearingdown to cross close under his stern,” declared Hodge.

“I don’t believe that schooner is much of a sailor, forall of her rakish appearance,” said Harry.

“She’s running under light sail,” observed Frank. “Itwould make a difference if she were to crack on everystitch.”

At the wheel a man seemed half asleep. Another manwas at work forward, and those were all the boys couldsee.

“Don’t believe she carries a heavy crew,” said Browning,surveying the schooner with lazy interest.

Somehow or other as they drew nearer to the black vesselthey lowered their voices and all seemed to feel anair of awe stealing over them.

“Do you make out her name, Merry?” asked Harry ofFrank, who had the glass.

“Yes. There, you can all see it now.”

The schooner swung to port, and the white letters onher stern were distinctly seen.

“P-i-r-a-t-e,” spelled Diamond.

“Pirate?” gasped Harry, doubtfully.

“Pirate!” exclaimed Hodge, excitedly.

“Pirate,” came languidly from Browning, who showedno remarkable interest.

“That’s right,” nodded Frank. “An appropriate namefor her, sure enough.”

“I should say so!” nodded Rattleton. “She looks likea pirate.”

“And I’m hanged if the man at the wheel don’t look likeone!” half laughed Frank, passing the glass to Harry.

Rattleton took a look through the glass.

[Pg 14]

“Both men are tough-looking fellows,” he declared.“They have the appearance of men who would not hesitateto cut a throat for a sawbuck. I wouldn’t—— What’sup now?”

There was a commotion on board the black schooner.

THE MAN WITH THE GUN.

“Something’s wrong!”

“Sure pop!”

The boys heard a scream. It sounded like the voice of awoman.

Then there was a hoarse shout. The man at the wheelwoke to a show of interest, and the man forward startedaft.

Suddenly a girlish figure appeared on deck. She ran tothe rail and tried to leap overboard, but two men, besidesthose already on deck, appeared in pursuit, grasped andheld her.

The girl seemed to see the small sailboat.

“Help!” she wildly cried. “Save——”

One of the men clapped a hand over her mouth, and shewas carried away, struggling.

Then there was excitement on board the Jolly Sport.

“The Old Nick is to pay on board the Pirate!” exclaimedRattleton.

“It’s a girl, boys!” cried Diamond, all his natural gallantryawakened and aroused. “She is in distress. Wemust aid her!”

“Bring her round, Hodge—bring her round, andwe’ll——”

“Lay her up, Hodge, lay her up, and we’ll make a runafter the schooner!” came promptly from Frank. “I wantto know something more about this.”

“That’s right,” nodded Rattleton, who did not resentthe manner in which Frank took command. “What right[Pg 16]have they to treat a girl like that! There’s somethingwrong going on!”

Even Browning was aroused.

“I believe Rattleton is right,” he said. “Maybe that girlhas been kidnaped.”

The Jolly Sport was headed in pursuit of the blackschooner, without immediately attracting the attention ofanyone on board the Pirate.

The girl had been overpowered with ease and carriedbelow.

“What are we going to do when we overtake them?”asked Browning.

“We’ll do something if we get on board!” exclaimedHodge.

“But it’s not likely we’ll be able to get on board.”

“Oh, I don’t know!”

It was not long before the man at the wheel saw theboat in pursuit. He called to another man, who went below,after coming astern to take a look at the pursuingcatboat.

In a short time two men came up from below and tooka survey of the Jolly Sport. One of the men seemed tobe captain of the schooner. He betrayed uneasiness.

Coming to the rail, the captain harshly shouted:

“What are you lubbers chasin’ us fer? Go about, andmind your own business!”

“We wish to talk with you, captain,” returned Frank.

“Don’t want to talk,” was the surly retort. “Keep off.”

“We want to talk, I tell you. What’s the use to be sounsociable. Make yourself agreeable.”

“What do you want?”

“We saw you were having a little trouble on boardand so——”

[Pg 17]

“Ain’t havin’ no trouble. Tell yer to mind your ownbusiness! If you nose round us, you’ll get hurt.”

“Who was the young lady who tried to jump overboard?”

“That was my gal,” answered the man, after somehesitation.

“Why did she try to leap over the rail?”

“She’s been sick, an’ she’s a little daffy in her upperdeck, that’s all.”

“He’s lying!” exclaimed Hodge, in a low voice. “Youcan tell that he is lying by the way he says it!”

“We’ve got a doctor here,” fibbed Rattleton. “We’llcome aboard and he’ll prescribe for her.”

“Keep off!” roared the man on the schooner. “Wedon’t want no doctors botherin’ round here.”

“But we are coming aboard!” flung back Diamond.“We want to see that girl.”

“You can’t see her! If you come round here, you’ll getyer heads broke!”

The black-bearded sailor was angry. He shook his fistat the boys, and used language that would not look wellin print.

Still the Jolly Sport kept after the Pirate, as if theyouthful crew of the former had determined to overhaulthe schooner and board her.

There was a consultation on board the schooner, andthen one of the men hastily went below.

The Jolly Sport was drawing close to the other vesselwhen the man reappeared, bringing a gun, which hehanded to the black-bearded man who had done all thetalking.

“Jee whiskers!” gurgled Rattleton. “That means trouble!”

[Pg 18]

“He won’t dare use it!” declared Diamond.

The man with the gun leaned over the rail of theschooner.

“Now, look here, you fresh young lubbers,” he roared,“if you don’t go round and git, I’ll fill you full of duck-shot,or my name’s not Cyrus Horn!”

The way he said it seemed to indicate that he meantbusiness.

“Hanged if I don’t think he’ll do it!” grunted Browning.“He is a genuine old pirate, for sure.”

“Are you the captain of that schooner?” asked FrankMerriwell.

“I be,” was the answer.

“Well, what’s the use to be touchy, captain! We’ve gotsome beer on board, and you must be thirsty. You’ll findus a jolly crowd.”

“I don’t drink beer and I don’t want nothing to do withyer. Git!”

Capt. Horn leveled his big gun at the pursuing boat.

“Don’t be hasty, captain, for——”

“Git!”

“Listen to reason.”

“Git!”

The captain of the schooner was not to be beguiled bysmooth words. They could see his greenish eyes glaringalong the barrel of the gun he held, and he looked likea person who would not hesitate to shoot.

“I’ll give ye till I count three to go about,” he roared.“If ye don’t do it, I’ll begin shootin’.”

Then he counted:

“One!”

The boys looked at each other undecidedly.

“Two!”

“It’s no use,” said Frank, quietly. “If the man is in[Pg 19]such a mood, it’s worse than folly to try to board his boat.He could claim that he took us for robbers, and——”

“Down with your helm!” cried Rattleton, and the JollySport was put about.

None too soon, for the captain of the schooner was seentaking aim with great deliberation.

“Now git!” he roared. “If I see anything of yer again,I’ll take a shot at yer jest for the fun of it.”

“Well, if that man isn’t a genuine pirate, it’s not hisfault,” growled Browning. “It’s certain he was cut outfor one.”

“He’d cut a throat with pleasure,” nodded Hodge.

Merriwell was silent, with his eyes fastened on the recedingschooner. There was a troubled expression on hishandsome face, and it was plain enough that he regrettedtheir inability to solve the mystery of the girl who hadtried to leap overboard.

It was not like Frank to give up so easily, but he hadrealized that it was the height of folly to attempt to boardthe schooner in the face of the enraged man with the gun.

It might be true that the girl was crazy, but Frankcould not help feeling that it was not true. Somethingseemed to whisper that she was a captive in the hands ofwretched and unscrupulous men.

Such a thought was quite enough to arouse withinFrank’s heart a strong desire to rescue her, but it seemedthat he was utterly helpless to render her any assistance.

Had our hero been sure the girl was a captive, he wouldhave felt like following the Pirate at a distance and makingan attempt to have the proper authorities render thegirl assistance when Capt. Horn ran into some port.

If it was true she was crazy, the boys would makethemselves objects of ridicule by interfering in her behalf.

The situation was discussed, and they finally decided tocontinue on their course to the Thimbles.

[Pg 20]

They steered for Pot Rock and the cove, where it wassaid Capt. Kidd had hidden his vessel, and near which,it was supposed, his treasure was buried.

It was past three in the afternoon when they ran intothe little steamboat dock.

ON THE ISLAND.

Under a tree they lunched, drank their beer and smokedcigars and cigarettes. They were jolly, seeming to haveforgotten the adventure with the mysterious blackschooner.

Browning stretched his massive frame on the groundand puffed away in serene laziness.

“I’d like to stay right here the rest of my life and donothing but eat and drink and sleep,” he grunted.

“You’d miss the ball games this spring,” said Diamond.

“Go to!” said the big fellow. “What are the ballgames? A lot of fellows get up and bat a ball around,while another lot of fellows chase it. They run and whoopand throw the ball and get covered with perspiration. Itis a most distressing spectacle. Ball games, indeed! Goto, I say—go to!”

“And the spring boat race—you’d miss that,” saidHarry.

“Another distressing spectacle. Nine men in a boat,eight of them working, working, working as if their livesdepended on it. They strain every muscle, their faces arecontorted with the agony of it, their eyes bulge with distress,their breasts heave as they try to breathe, and whenthe race is over some of them are like rags run through awringer. Again I say, go to!”

“But you used to be enthusiastic over such things. Youplayed football yourself.”

“Which goes to show what a fool a fellow can makeof himself. Of all things football is the worst. That is areal battle for life between twenty-two mad and furious[Pg 22]fools, every one of whom is thirsting for gore. Theytear at one another, like famished wolves, buck one another,fling one another to the ground, jump on one another.Did I play football?”

“Surely you did.”

“It’s a far reach from such folly to the wisdom of to-day.Ten thousand dollars would not induce me to engageonce again in a real game of football.”

“But think of the excitement—the glory.”

“The excitement is the delirium of fools. The glory—whatis glory? How long does it last? Last fall, whenMerry carried the ball over the line for a touchdown onJarvis Field, with half the Harvard team on his back, hecovered himself with glory. For a little time he was thetalk of the college. His picture was in the papers. Hewas dined, and he would have been wined—that is, if hewould have been. But now—now how is it? Spring hascome, football is forgotten and his glory is fading. Everybodyis talking of baseball and the way the nine will bemade up.”

“And you’ll find they are talking of Merry just thesame,” declared Harry. “They haven’t forgotten that hetwirls the sphere.”

“Oh, no, they haven’t forgotten; but what if he werenot available—what if he should refuse? How long wouldhis glory last! Another would arise to fill his place, andhe would be forgotten. Glory! It is the dream of fools.Give me plenty to wear, plenty to eat and lots of time torest, and the world may have its glory.”

Frank laughed.

“The same old Browning,” he said. “And yet youare as much of a football and baseball enthusiast as anyman at Yale. It breaks your heart when Harvard orPrinceton wins from Old Eli. You go into mourning and[Pg 23]don’t recover for a week. Oh, you put up a good bluff,old man, but I can read you like an open book.”

Bruce grunted derisively.

“Very astute,” he commented, and then relapsed intosilence, as if it were a great effort to speak, and he hadalready exerted himself too much.

“And think of the pretty girls Merry wins by his popularity,”said Jack. “He has opportunities to kiss lots ofthem.”

“If a fellow has an opportunity to kiss a pretty girl heshould improve it,” declared Hodge.

“Ah!” cried Rattleton; “such an opportunity could notbe improved.”

To this all agreed, laughing, with the exception ofBrowning, who had closed his eyes and seemed to havefallen asleep instantly.

The boys talked of Yale’s prospects on the diamond,and Harry said:

“It strikes me that we are going to be weak behindthe bat this year. What do you think, Merry?”

“There are several fellows who will try for the position.”

“Yes; but what do you know about them?”

“I don’t like to say.”

“Oh, come! You are with friends, and you may talkfreely. What do you think of Ned Noon?”

“He is, in my estimation, one of the most promisingmen, but he can’t run, and bats weakly. Behind the bathe might work very well, but he would be weak in otherdirections.”

“That’s string as a straight—I mean, straight as astring,” cried Harry. “If Ned Noon stands a show to geton the ’varsity nine, there is hope for me.”

“Well, there’s Roger Stone,” put in Diamond. “Whatabout him?”

[Pg 24]

“He can bat like a fiend,” said Frank, “but he is weakon his throwing. He’ll stop anything he can reach, but ittakes him so long to get a ball to second base that a goodrunner can steal down from first every time. That is abig fault. Stone will not do.”

“Right again,” nodded Rattleton. “And those two menare the strongest of the new candidates.”

“Some man may show up who is not talked of at allnow,” said Jack.

Harry gave Hodge a quick glance.

“Old man,” he cried, “why don’t you make a try forthe nine?”

An embarrassed flush showed in Bart’s dark cheeks.

“That would be pretty fresh for a freshman, wouldn’tit?” he asked.

“Not so confounded fresh. Merry got on the firstyear he was in Yale.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“I am not Frank Merriwell, and there are not manyfellows his equal.”

Frank laughed merrily.

“Come off!” he cried. “The world is full of them. Inorder to get on at anything, a fellow must seize his opportunities.At the time that I got on to the nine therewas a great cry for a change pitcher. I laid out to fill thebill, and I managed to fill it. That’s all. Now there’s acry for a catcher, as well as for pitchers. It will be somebody’sopportunity.”

Hodge was silent, but there was an eager look on hisface.

“I have pitched to you, Bart,” Frank went on, “and Iknow what you are. We work well together. You are adandy thrower, a good batter, and a bird on the bases.[Pg 25]Take my advice, get into gear and make a try for thenine.”

“I don’t know how to do it.”

“There’ll be plenty of fellows to coach you,” said Diamond,quickly. “I am going in for a shot at third bag.I may get there, although several good men are looking inthe same direction. If I fail, it won’t kill me. I know Iam not the only cake of ice. There are others just ascool. Make a bluff at it, Hodge. It won’t hurt you toget left.”

“Perhaps not,” said Bart; but he felt in his heart thathe would be cut keenly if he made a desperate try to geton the nine and some other fellow was chosen.

Browning sneezed and awoke.

“You’re catching cold, old man,” said Frank.

“No danger,” said Rattleton. “He’s too lazy to catchanything.”

“That’s got a long gray beard on it,” grunted Bruce,with an air of disgust.

The wind, chill and raw, began to blow. Black cloudswere piling up in the west, and the sun was shut out. Thiscame so suddenly that the boys were startled.

“Jove!” cried Hodge. “There’s a storm coming!”

“Remember what the old fellow on the tug said whenwe came out?” exclaimed Diamond. “He warned us.”

“That’s so!”

Frank was on his feet taking a survey of the seaand sky.

“If we want to get back to New Haven to-night we’dbetter get a hustle on,” he declared.

Then there was a hasty gathering of such things as theywished to carry back and a hurrying down to the JollySport. They clambered on board, stowed things away,cast off from the pier, ran up the sails, and made the firsttack out to sea.

[Pg 26]

The sky became dark and overcast. Down near NewYork somewhere great rollers started and seemed togather force and size as they surged along the sound.

The spray began to fly as the catboat plunged fromroller to roller, and the boys saw a prospect of getting“good and wet.”

Frank was at the helm, and his face wore a serious look.He realized that they were in for a bad run, to say thevery least.

And the wind was dead ahead!

Harry showed nervousness. He owned the boat, but itwas not that he was thinking about. He remembered thestory of the Yale crowd lost on the sound some years before.

“Mink we’ll thake it—I mean think we’ll make it allright, Frank?” he asked, with evident agitation.

“We must,” was all Merriwell answered.

The wind grew stiffer and stiffer. The Jolly Sportfloundered considerably, and the spray flew thicker andthicker.

“We’ve got to take in a reef,” cried Merry. “Get ready,all hands. Now—work lively!”

Lively work they made of it, but the catboat shippeda sea before the reefing was over and she was brought intothe wind again.

The boys fell to bailing, and away went the Jolly Sportlike a racer.

The wind continued to rise, and Frank found Harry’sboat had her faults.

“She’s no wind-jammer,” he said. “Can’t hold herclose, and she will fall off, best I can do.”

“If we’d paid some attention to the old fellow whowarned us there would be a blow,” regretted Harry.

“No use to cry over that,” came sharply from Diamond.“We’ve got to make New Haven harbor.”

[Pg 27]

Browning shivered.

“Don’t know why I was fool enough to come,” hegrumbled. “Might be safe and warm in my room now.”

It was five o’clock, but was so dark that it seemed muchlater. Rattleton, for all of his nervousness, cracked severaljokes. Diamond made an effort to look unconcerned,and succeeded very well. Hodge was grim and silent.

The wind was fitful. Now and then Frank would cry:

“Ease her off.”

Then they would let out the sail quickly, and the cat’s-pawwould sweep over them.

“How is your old sheet, Rattles?” asked Diamond.“Will she hold?”

“Can’t say,” confessed Harry. “She isn’t new.”

“How are the halyards?”

“Strong enough so I have been up the mast with them.”

“They ought to be all right.”

Sizz—boom! A big wave struck the bow, the sprayflew in a thick cloud, and they were drenched to the skin.

“Awfully jolly!” grinned Harry.

“Yes, more fun than a barrel of monkeys!” said Jack,sarcastically.

“That’s nothing but the beginning,” assured Frank,consolingly. “It’ll be a regular picnic before New Havenis reached.”

“How nice!” groaned Browning.

They took turns at bailing till all were weary and exhausted.Diamond’s temper was beginning to rise, whileHodge was holding his down with an effort.

“Don’t anybody ever again ask me to go sailing on anApril day!” snapped the Virginian.

Darkness came down without the moon they desired.

“I wish we were back on the island,” said Bart.

“Can’t we run back there now?” asked Harry.

[Pg 28]

Frank looked away over the water and then shook hishead.

“It’s more than even we’d run straight out to the opensea,” he said.

Frank took full command, and his sharp orders wereobeyed unhesitatingly, showing they all had confidencein him.

The Jolly Sport lurched and staggered. She fell offamazingly. Frank gave orders that another reef be taken,and the boys sprang to obey, Browning making a showof haste.

Frank put two men on the sheet when the reef hadbeen made, a laborious task, for their fingers were numbwith the cold. The boat shook ominously.

But under the double reef she rode better.

All at once a cry broke from Bart’s lips.

“Luff! luff!” he screamed. “Hard a-port, or we’regoners!”

He pointed, and they all saw a dark mass that was bearingdown upon them with the speed of an express train.It seemed to loom above them like the black shadow ofdoom. It sent a shudder of horror to their hearts.

“A vessel!” screamed Diamond.

“A vessel!” thundered Browning. “Look out, Merry!”

With all his strength Frank jammed down the tiller,and the boat came about on the other tack, although sheseemed to do so with deathly slowness.

Every lad held his breath, expecting to hear a crash,feel the shock, or be hurled into the sea.

There was a slight jar, a scraping sound, and the blackmass fled past.

“It’s the black schooner!” shouted Diamond.

The same thought had come to Frank. There seemedto be something familiar in this overshadowing peril ofthe deep.

[Pg 29]

Past them flew the strange vessel. The wind was makinga great racket, but high above its clamor the boys inthe catboat heard a cry that must have come from humanlips. It was wild and weird, and it sent a shudder throughthem.

On sped the mysterious vessel.

Round came the Jolly Sport, and, almost before anybodywas aware of it, the catboat was running after theschooner.

Running before the wind the Jolly Sport was a wonder.She flew like a bird.

“What are you going to do, Merry?” shouted Rattleton,in amazement.

“I am going to try to get back to the Thimbles beforeit is pitch dark.”

“It can’t be done!” declared Diamond.

“It’s our only show. The night is going to be blackerthan a stack of black cats. We’ll be run down here on thesound, or the seas will swamp us. We can’t make NewHaven against this wind. It is utterly impossible.”

The others felt that Frank was right. The boat hadshown that she was but little good against the wind, butshe could run like a deer before it. They had been along time beating off from the Thimbles, but it could nottake them long to run back.

Then they thought of the vessel that had so nearlyrun them down.

“Did you hear that cry, Merry?” asked Rattleton.

“Yes, I heard it,” nodded Frank.

“What do you think it was?”

“Hard to tell.”

“Sounded like a cry of distress.”

“Yes, that was what it sounded like.”

Then all the boys thought of the girl they had seen on[Pg 30]the mysterious schooner. It occurred to each one of themthat it was possible the cry had come from her lips.

For all that the Jolly Sport seemed to fly, the vesselwas making still greater speed, and she was soon lost inthe gloom.

The boys felt that the chance of making the Thimblesand running into the snug little harbor was small indeed,but they trusted everything to Frank Merriwell’s judgment.

They had been bailing all along, thinking the water wascoming in over the rail, but when they had turned abouta startling discovery was made.

The water was coming in as fast as ever, although butlittle spray flew into the boat.

“She’s leaking!” cried Hodge.

Frank had made that discovery some time before, and itwas for that reason he had turned about so suddenly andunexpectedly. He hoped to strike the Thimbles, and, as adesperate resort, he could pile the Jolly Sport high anddry on the beach.

Frank knew the boat would not hold to continue thedesperate attempt to beat across the sound. He was notsure she would hold to reach the islands.

But what if they missed the islands entirely?

They would be driven out to sea, and the chances werea thousand to one that not one of them would ever live toagain place a foot on dry land!

IN THE HOUR OF PERIL.

It was a terrible risk running blindly for those islands,but it seemed a still more terrible one to attempt to beatacross the black sound.

The five lads in the boat held their breath, strainedtheir eyes, listened.

Around the boat the sea swirled and seethed. It rolleddarkly on either hand, and the Jolly Sport cut through thewater with a hissing sound.

Somehow through the darkness they could see greatwhite bubbles of foam that came up out of the water andwinked at them like the eyes of the mighty demons ofthe deep.

Those blinking eyes filled them with awe and horror.They shuddered and turned sick at heart. Their earslistened for the breaking of the surf on the beach ofthe islands, a sound which they longed, yet dreaded, tohear.

But all they could hear was the shriek of the wind, theswish of the sea, and the rushing sound of the boat.

“Bail!”

The word came like a pistol shot. It woke them to arealization of the peril that was creeping upon them.

Water was pouring into the boat from her leaks. Itwas rising around their feet, and the Jolly Sport wasbeginning to plunge and flounder distressingly.

“Bail!”

Again the word shot from Frank Merriwell’s lips.

They hastened to obey. They scooped the water up[Pg 32]with the bailing dishes, with a sponge, and with theircaps; but it came in faster than they could throw it out.

“We’re going down!”

Rattleton uttered the cry.

“Well,” said Browning, in the same old lazy manner,“it does look as if we might have to swim for it prettysoon.”

Diamond and Hodge were silent. Their teeth were set,and they were straining their eyes through the darkness,as if they longed to see something that would give themhope.

A light flashed out, winked, disappeared.

“Lighthouse there!” shouted Rattleton.

“Running straight for it!” cried Diamond.

“Be on a ledge in a minute!” grunted Browning.

Frank shoved over the tiller, and the Jolly Sport wentfloundering off through the seas, with her course changedsomewhat.

“Bail, boys—bail!” Frank again commanded. “It isour only hope. If we can keep afloat five minuteslonger——”

The wind tore the words from his lips, with a mockingshriek. He bent his head and gripped the tiller, while theboat wallowed along bravely, seeming like a woundedcreature seeking cover as it grew weaker from loss ofblood.

The boys worked with all the energy they could commandto get the water out as fast as it came in. BruceBrowning did his best. They were chilled to the bone,dripping wet, and sick at heart. Every man of them feltthat his chance of being drowned was most excellent.

Swish—bump! the big waves came down on the boat,struck her, piled over her. A score of times it seemed thatshe was swamped, a score of times she fought her way to[Pg 33]the surface, a score of times prayers of relief were whisperedby white lips.

She was not making much headway. The wind wascarrying her off helplessly.

Still Frank clung to the tiller, trying to steer and succeedingin a measure, so that he kept her from rollinghelplessly broadside to the seas.

“Light again!” cried Diamond, as the flash of fire againgleamed out and disappeared.

Now came a sound that was like the sullen roar of ananimal in distress. It was the booming of the surf onshore.

“If I don’t strike the mouth of the cove, we’ll be piledup on a ledge, or high and dry on shore in less than twominutes,” came from Frank’s lips.

They heard him, and they realized they were close uponthe islands. The sound of the surf added a feeling of terrorto their other sensations, and yet they were thankfulthey had not missed the Thimbles and been driven outto sea.

Louder and louder came the booming roar of the surf.Through the darkness they seemed to see a white wall offoam that shifted and heaved, leaped and roared.

All the tigers of the deep seemed to be at play alongthat white line. They saw the boat and its helpless crew.They roared their delight over the coming feast.

But ahead—what was that? A spot where the whiteline was not dancing and howling. The boat made forthat spot.

“Hold fast!”

Frank was not sure it was the mouth of the cove. Hecould not tell in that dense darkness, but he headedstraight toward that spot. They might strike at anymoment.

Onward floundered the Jolly Sport, making a last gallant[Pg 34]effort to keep afloat. The roaring surf was on eitherside. The leaping tigers in white were there, gnashingtheir teeth and howling with impotent rage.

“It’s the cove!” screamed Harry Rattleton. “We’re allright! Hurrah!”

“Hurrah!” cheered Diamond.

Frank said nothing; he knew their peril was not over.

Bart Hodge said nothing; he would not have murmuredhad they gone down in mid-sound.

Bruce Browning was silent; he was exhausted by hisefforts at bailing.

The great waves pursued the fugitive boat into thecove, like wolves in chase of a wounded deer.

All at once a black hulk loomed before them.

“A vessel!” cried Harry.

“Look out!” warned Jack.

With all his strength, Frank pulled over the tiller. Theboat obeyed slowly and with reluctance. She could notclear the black hulk entirely.

“Confound them!” muttered Frank. “Why don’t theyhave a light out? There’s a law for this, and——”

Bump!—the Jolly Sport struck. Scrape!—she slidalong the side of the vessel.

It was a marvel she did not go down then and there,but they continued to scrape and slide along the side ofthe vessel, which was heaving at anchor.

The shock was felt on board the vessel. As the boyslooked up there was a faint gleam of light, and a manlooked down at them from the rail. He snarled outsomething at them, but the shrieking wind drowned hiswords, and they did not understand what he said.

The boat cleared the vessel and went wallowing acrossthe dark waters of the cove.

“Can’t strike steamboat pier,” muttered Frank. “Strikeshore beyond. Bound to swim for it.”

[Pg 35]

Then he called to the others:

“All ready, fellows! Got to swim. We’re all right now,if we stand by each other.”

They knew they would be in the water directly, butthey were not scared now, for what was before them wasnothing beside what they had escaped.

“Harry, are you ready?” called Frank.

“All ready, Merry,” came back, promptly.

“Ready, Jack?”

“Sure,” answered Diamond’s voice.

“And you, Bruce?”

“I’m too fat to sink, don’t worry about me,” saidBrowning, with a laugh.

“How about you, Bart?”

No answer.

“Hodge, are you ready?” called Frank.

No answer.

“What’s the matter with him? Why doesn’t he speak?”

“Where is he?” asked Rattleton, excitedly.

“Isn’t he here?”

“No! He is gone!”

“Impossible.”

But it was true; Hodge was not in the boat. He haddisappeared in a most remarkable manner, as if he hadbeen dragged from the boat by the grim demons of thedeep.

There was no time to think about this most astoundingand terrible discovery. They had stopped bailing for afew seconds, but the water had continued to rush in, andnow, without so much as one last faint struggle, the JollySport floundered and sank.

“She’s going!” screamed Harry.

“Jump!” cried Frank.

He saw them rise and plunge into the cold water, andthen, with some trouble, he cleared the dripping sail that[Pg 36]sought to settle down over his head and drag him underwith the Jolly Sport.

They were close to the shore, else they could not haveescaped even then. They helped each other out, anddragged themselves upon the bank, where they sank down,panting and helpless.

Beyond the mouth of the cove the breakers roared, andnow in their clamor there seemed a note of triumph, as ifthey knew not all of the crew on board the Jolly Sporthad escaped.

And the four water-dripping lads who lay upon theshore were too numb for words. But their hearts weretorn with grief, even though they had reached solidground, for one of their number was not with them.

Where was he?

Had he been swept overboard by a wave and carrieddown without a sound?

It did not seem possible.

Frank was thinking of him. Where, when and how hadit happened?

Frank remembered that Bart had been silent all along,but he was sure Hodge had been in the boat when theblack schooner so nearly ran them down.

He was in the boat after that. The others rememberedthat he had helped them bail.

The mystery of his disappearance was appalling. Itcrushed down upon them all like some mighty weight.

He had helped them bail. Frank kept thinking thatover. He understood Bart better than anyone else, andhe knew Hodge had realized that the Jolly Sport wasoverloaded.

Then came a thought to Frank that brought an exclamationfrom his lips.

“Did he jump overboard purposely?”

That was the question that gave Frank a shock. He[Pg 37]realized that Hodge might have done so. Bart mighthave felt that his added weight was helping to sink thecatboat and that the others would stand a better showof reaching shore if he were gone. Then——

Merry did not like to think of that. He did not like tofancy Hodge slipping overboard to lighten the boat sothat the others might have a better chance to reach land.

Still he could not help thinking, and his fancy picturedBart struggling with the surging waves, trying tokeep afloat a few moments, rising on the crest of a waveand straining his eyes through the darkness for one lastglimpse of the boat that contained his friends—his friendsfor whom he had sacrificed his life.

If Bart had done such a thing, Frank was certain heknew why. Merry had done everything in his power forHodge, and Bart had felt his utter inability to make repayment.Now it was possible he had sacrificed his ownlife that Frank might possibly be saved.

Such thoughts brought to Merriwell the tenderestemotions.

“Dear, brave fellow!” he whispered.

Then he murmured a prayer, the words being torn fromhis lips by the furious gale.

Merry seemed to see Hodge feebly battling with thewaves, his strength failing him swiftly. He fancied thewaves tearing at him, beating upon him, hurling himdown.

The last struggle had come and passed, and the cruel,triumphant, deadly sea rolled on.

In the morning they would search for him on yondershore where the white tigers were dancing and howling.They would walk along the shore, hoping, yet dreading,to see his white face on the sand.

Frank thought of the time he had first met Hodge atFardale Station. They had met as enemies, and Merry[Pg 38]had struck the proud and haughty lad who was shakinga barefooted urchin, after having kicked the urchin’s dogfrom the station platform.

Hodge had vowed vengeance, and he had resorted toquestionable methods for obtaining it; but in everythinghe had been beaten by Frank.

Then came the time that Bart had realized the cowardiceof his own actions and Merriwell’s nobility. Laterthey had become friends, roommates, chums. They hadfought for each other, and Bart had said more than oncethat he would die for Frank Merriwell.

A MYSTERY.

Huddled together on the shore, the boys began to talkit over. Rattleton did not remember seeing Bart afterthe second appearance of the black schooner, while Diamondwas sure Hodge had been with them till they werenear the mouth of the cove. All wondered why they hadnot seen him when he plunged overboard.

“Perhaps he felt that he had a better show to getashore if he swam for it than he had if he remained inthe boat,” suggested Browning.

“Hodge was not a fool,” said Frank, a bit sharply. “Heknew he had no show at all if he left the boat.”

“Then why did he leave it?”

“That the rest of us might have a better show. Hethought the boat would keep afloat longer.”

“Do you think that?”

“It seems that way.”

They talked it over and over, wringing the water fromtheir clothes. Despite the fact that four of them hadescaped, all felt that a frightful calamity had occurred.At one time it had seemed there was not one chance in ahundred for any of them to escape, but, now they wereashore, the horror of the loss of a single man made themsick at heart.

“I’ll never own another boat!” declared Rattleton.“I’ve had enough of it.”

A light flashed out on the cove. It was on board thevessel that they had run against.

Then they spoke of her.

[Pg 40]

“Do you know,” said Diamond, “I believe I can namethat vessel.”

“Do you really think so?” asked Harry.

“Sure.”

“Name her.”

“Pirate.”

“What?”

Harry and Bruce uttered the exclamation together.Both were startled.

Frank Merriwell said nothing. Had he been asked toname the vessel, he would have said the same thing.

“How can that be?” asked Harry. “We thought itwas the Pirate that came so near running us down on thesound.”

“Perhaps it was.”

“Impossible! She could not be here.”

“Why not?” asked Frank. “We ran into this cove, andthe Sport was disabled at that.”

“But the Pirate is a big vessel.”

“Not so very large.”

“Why should she run in here?”

“There is some mystery about her. Like Diamond, Ithink that is the black schooner. She had time to run inhere and drop anchor ahead of us, and that’s what shedid. We know no vessel was here when we left the covethis afternoon. She must have come in since then.”

“Say, fellows,” grunted Browning.

“Say it.”

“I don’t believe her name is a misnomer. It strikesme she is a genuine old pirate. If not, why is she runningaround in this way and taking such chances of beingpiled high and dry on these islands? She came into thiscove to hide.”

“The days of pirates are past,” said Jack.

“Don’t care,” growled Bruce. “Capt. Horn is a pirate[Pg 41]chief, or he’s the ghost of one, and his old schooner is aphantom, like the Flying Dutchman.”

“She’s a pretty solid phantom,” said Frank. “Westruck against her and scraped her side.”

“If that is the Pirate.”

“Hark!”

The boys listened, and the wind brought to their earssounds that interested them.

“They are lowering a boat out there,” said Frank.“Surely they are at some unlawful business, or theywould not work in the dark and fail to display a singlelight.”

A few moments later the boys heard the sound of oarsclanking in rowlocks.

“Coming!”

Rattleton uttered the exclamation.

“Sounds like it!” agreed Diamond.

Browning grunted.

Merriwell was silent.

The wind was right for them to hear any sound thatmight come from the direction of the unknown vessel, butwhen it rose to a wild shriek nothing but its howlingcould be distinguished. When it fell, each of the fourboys distinguished the sound of oars.

Somehow there seemed something mysterious aboutthe movement of the boat. Each of the listening lads feltthe mystery, although they could not have told why.

Harry’s teeth chattered. He was cold, and he wasnervous. The events of the night had quite unmannedhim.

Clug-clank, clug-clank, clug-clank.

More than a single set of oars were being used. Frankfelt sure of that, for his keen ear distinguished somethingin the sound that settled the point in his mind.

[Pg 42]

The boat was coming straight toward the point wherethe boys were crouching on the shore.

“Pier is near here,” thought Frank. “They’re goingto run in there and get in the lee of it. But why are theycoming ashore in this confounded storm?”

In the teeth of the wind a fine sleet was carried. Itwas too cold for a genuine storm of rain, and the sleetfell like some particles of ice.

No wonder Harry’s teeth chattered together.

“Keep still, boys,” warned Frank. “We’ll get a lookat those fellows.”

“Huah!” grunted Browning. “Don’t know how youare going to get a look at anybody in this darkness.”

“They are bringing some kind of a light.”

“Can’t see it.”

“They’ve got it just the same.”

“What makes you think so?”

“Saw a gleam of it when they were getting into theboat.”

“Yes; but it may have been left on the vessel.”

“No; I’m sure I caught a flicker after the boat started.”

“Well, what sort of a light is it if we can’t see itnow?”

“Dark lantern.”

“Eh? Great Scott!”

All the boys, with the exception of Merry, gave a start.Why should the men in the boat carry a dark lantern?

Rattleton, Browning, Diamond, all three of them, flungthe question at Frank.

“I don’t know,” confessed Merry; “but it is a part ofthe mystery.”

It added to the keen interest with which the boysawaited the approach of the boat.

Burglars carried dark lanterns. Crooks carried dark[Pg 43]lanterns. What sort of men were these? What sort ofa night expedition were they making?

For the moment the mystery surrounding the fate ofBart Hodge was forgotten. The boys had no thoughtsfor anyone or anything but the approaching boat.

The sound of rowing became more and more distinct.

“Changed now—not coming straight here,” whisperedFrank. “Going in at pier. I thought so.”

Rattleton’s imagination was at work; strange fanciesflitted through his brain.

“What if they are kidnapers?” he thought. “What ifthey had stolen that girl? What if they were paid to puther out of the way? What if they have murdered herand are bringing her ashore to bury her under cover ofdarkness, where her body will never be found. Whatif——”

That was the limit. He did not dare carry the speculationany further. Already he was gasping for breath,overcome with the horror of the thought. The adventuresof the night bore heavily upon him. For the first time inhis life he felt like a coward. He was willing to keepstill and let the men in the boat go their way and do theirwill, no matter what crime they had perpetrated.

Frank did not feel that way. His curiosity was fullyawakened, and he was eager to solve the mystery.

“Come!”

He arose to a crouching posture and moved toward thepier, stumbling blindly over the rough ground.

Diamond was ready to follow anywhere Merriwellmight lead, and he followed close at Frank’s heels.

Rattleton hesitated. It was not till Browning, with agroan, arose and started to follow the others that heseemed to awaken from the spell that had fallen uponhim.

[Pg 44]

“Brace up!” he grated. “What ails you? Are yougoing to wilt now?”

He did brace up, but he followed along behind theothers.

They did not go far before Merriwell brought them toa stand.

“They’re landing,” whispered Frank.

The rowing had stopped. They could hear a subduedmurmur of hoarse voices.

The boat had come round under the lee of the pier, andthe men were coming ashore.

As the boys stood there, they again caught a gleam oflight—a moving ray, shot from a reflector. It was gonein a moment, but it had shown them several figures.

“Nearer!” palpitated Diamond, eagerly.

“Dangerous,” declared Frank. “Might shoot the lighton us at any moment. Can’t tell what those men aredoing.”

The others felt that Merriwell was right. It might bevery dangerous to be discovered.

“Shall we follow them?” asked Browning, who hadbeen awakened in a most unusual manner.

“Perhaps. Wait and see.”

The wind howled, the fine sleet beat upon them, thewhite tigers roared from the distant shore.

“Down!”

Merriwell hissed the word, sinking to the ground. Theothers followed his example.

“What’s the matter?” asked Jack, throbbing with excitement.

“Coming,” answered Frank, laconically.

This was true. The men had left the pier, and theywere advancing toward the boys.

Again strange fancies flitted through Harry Rattleton’s[Pg 45]head. Had they been discovered? Were those mencoming to attack them? Were they destined to soon beengaged in a savage battle for life?

“If I ever get out of this scrape, I’ll let the Jolly Sportrest where she is and keep off the sound in April,” hementally vowed.

“Lay low!” hissed Frank.

They flattened themselves upon the ground, hearingfootsteps close at hand. They looked up and saw dark figurespassing. One, two, three, four of them.

“Don’t try any funny business with us, old man!”sounded a hoarse voice. “Take us straight to the spot!”

“If he tries ter fool Capt. Horn he’s as good as dead!”said another hoarse voice.

Then there was a muttering of harsh laughter, and thefour men passed on into the darkness.

Frank sat up, and the others did likewise.

“This is interesting!” Merry softly exclaimed.

“Yes, very!” grunted Browning. “Give something toknow what it means. Can you tell?”

“No,” confessed Frank. “All I could make out is thatthree of those fellows are making a fourth lead themsomewhere.”

“Let’s follow,” suggested Diamond. “Let’s know whatthey are up to. What do you say, Merry?”

“Just what I’d like to do.”

“What’s the use——” began Rattleton. Then hechecked himself, biting his tongue and thinking:

“Don’t be a fool! If you’re scared, don’t give it away.They may never know it.”

“Come ahead!”

Frank arose and took the lead. The others trailed outafter him. He was following the sailors through the[Pg 46]darkness, and his companions were following him. Notone of them knew what the adventure might lead to; allof them realized that it might be very dangerous. Theywere sure the men ahead were desperate ruffians, butcuriosity overcame every other emotion.

GHOSTLY SOUNDS.

Clank! clink! clank!

“What are they doing?”

“Digging!”

The boys had followed the men to a lonely part of theisland, where the wind howled through the trees when itcame down in fitful gusts, or moaned when it sank low.

The booming of the surf was like the steady roar ofa distant battery in action. The night seemed full ofalarms and terrors.

Frank had followed the unknown men with the skill ofan Indian trailer. The others had followed him with lessskill, but the sounds of the storm had favored them bydrowning such noises as they made while stumblingalong through the darkness.

At last the men had stopped, and, bit by bit, the boyshad crept upon them.

There was a gleam of light to guide them. The lightscame from two dark lanterns, the sides of which hadbeen opened. The lanterns were held to aid the men whowere at work.

Clink-clank! clink-clank! clink-clank!

One man was plying a pick. After a little he paused.

Scrape-swish! scrape-swish!

Another man was using a spade, flinging out the earthwhich the man with the pick had loosened.

“Digging!” repeated Diamond, in a palpitating whisper.“What does that mean?”

“Digging!” fluttered Rattleton. “Digging a grave!”

“Huah!” grunted Browning. “For whom?”

[Pg 48]

“Somebody! I knew it! Going to bury that girl! She’sbeen kidnaped! They’re going to put her out of the way!”

“How about the man they have with them—the manthey forced to show them this spot?” asked Diamond.“What are they going to do with him?”

“Don’t know. Kill him, too, perhaps! Let’s git!”

“And leave him to be killed?” said Frank. “Well, Ididn’t think that of you, Harry!”

Harry felt the cut of the reproach. He choked as hetried to whisper something back. After a little, he asked:

“Well, what can we do? Tell me that.”

“We can do our best for the man, if necessary; but Ido not think it will be necessary.”

“Then you think—just what?”

“That you are off your trolley.”

“How? Which way?”

“I do not believe they are digging a grave.”

“Then what are they doing? Why are they diggingthat hole?”

“They are looking for a souvenir.”

“Eh? Are you jollying, Merry? A souvenir of what?”

“Capt. Kidd!”

The others had been listening eagerly. Frank’s wordscaused all of them to gasp for breath.

“Then—then you think they are digging for——”

“Kidd’s gold!” finished Merriwell.

There was a moment of silence, and then Browninghoarsely whispered:

“That’s it—just it! It explains everything.”

“Everything but the prisoner. One of those four menis not here of his own free will. That is certain.”

“And the mystery of the girl on board the vessel,” camefrom Harry. “It is certain she is not there of her ownfree will.”

[Pg 49]

There was no doubt in the minds of the boys; all weresatisfied that Frank had hit upon the truth.

Harry, however, was no less afraid, for he realizedthat, without doubt, the men who had taken such painsto come there under cover of the storm and had broughta captive with them were ruffians capable of any desperatedeed.

The men worked steadily. One would use the pick ashort time, and then the other would toss out the dirt withthe spade. Not one of the four spoke. Deeper and deepergrew the hole.

The light fell on the faces of the men occasionally.They were rough and bearded. Frank watched themclosely, and he soon decided that one was the man whohad been at the wheel of the black schooner when theyfirst saw the vessel that day.

Now there was no longer a doubt that the same blackschooner lay in the cove, having run in there under coverof darkness, for all of the frightful risk.

The boys had heard one of the men speak to Capt.Horn as they crouched to let them pass, and that wasquite enough to settle the point.

Who was Capt. Horn?

He was the commander of the black schooner Pirate,but what was his record and his business? He had lookedlike a man who would not hesitate to enter into anythingby which it seemed likely he might make money, no matterhow dishonest or dangerous the project might be.

Frank crept a bit nearer the four men, hugging theground. The others followed him.

Merriwell remembered the stories he had heard of otherattempts to recover Kidd’s buried treasure—rememberedhow it had been necessary, according to superstition, forthe treasure hunters to obey certain rules. They always[Pg 50]dug on a dark and stormy night, and not one of the partycould speak from the time they began to work till thetreasure was found. If they did speak the treasure wouldturn to old iron or vanish entirely.

For some time the boys watched the digging, wonderingif there was a bare possibility that, at last, some onehad located the spot where the pirate’s treasure wasburied.

The hole grew deeper and deeper. The two men gotdown into it, and were hidden to their hips.

Frank became tired. He resolved to test the courage ofthe diggers in some manner.

The wind sank to a low moaning, but, from far, faraway it seemed to bring a sound that caused the men inthe hole to start, stop digging and listen.

It was a voice singing, and it seemed to be away onthe distant cove:

It was the famous song of the famous pirate, and itcaused those men to tremble in their boots. They felt likedropping pick and spade and taking to their heels, butone of the men who stood above savagely motioned forthem to go on with the work.

The wind rose to a shriek, full of mockery. The surfboomed in the distance.

Slowly the sailors picked up the pick and spade andresumed their work, but they were trembling now.

The sound of singing came nearer and nearer, as ifKidd himself were approaching the spot, singing at thetop of his voice as he advanced.

The men grew more and more nervous as the sound[Pg 51]came nearer, but still the man above motioned for themto go on.

At last, when the singer seemed close to that very spot,the song ceased.

“Thunder!” muttered Browning. “Where is that fellow?Thought it must be another one of their gangcoming.”

“Nothing of the sort,” whispered Diamond. “Didn’tyou see how scared the men digging were?”

“Sure.”

“They would not have been frightened if it had beenone of their own crowd.”

“That’s so. Who was it, then?”

“Capt. Kidd’s spook,” suggested Harry. “You know itis said his ghost haunts the place where he buried histreasure.”

“Rot!” grunted the big fellow. “Don’t take stock inspooks.”

Then, of a sudden, when the wind had died once moreto a low moaning, a wild burst of laughter was heard.That laugh was full of fiendish glee and mockery, and itseemed to come from some vague point in the very midstof the treasure-seekers.

Then the men in the pit did drop their implements andscramble out in hot haste. But they were met with arevolver in the hand of one of the men above, and itdrove them back to their digging.

“Ha! ha! ha! Ho! ho! ho!”

Again the weird laughter sounded, and it seemed tothe excited imagination of the diggers, to come from thepit they had made.

But that revolver was menacing them, and they darednot leap to the surface and take to their heels, althoughit was certain they wished to do so.

[Pg 52]

Again and again that laugh rang out. Then a deep,sepulchral voice was heard to say:

“Fools, do ye think to rob me now that I am dead?You shall find I guard my blood-stained gold! Not asingle piece shall you touch!”

That was quite enough to frighten any sailor. Againthe men in the pit dropped the pick and spade, but theyseemed paralyzed with fear, and stood there, staringabout with bulging eyes.

“Avaunt!” cried the hollow voice. “Flee from mywrath, or ye shall feel the touch of my dead hands—thetouch of doom! That touch means death!”

A wild shriek broke from the lips of one of the diggers.

“I feel it!” he screamed. “He has touched me! I am adead man! I am doomed!”

Then, shrieking with terror, he leaped out of the pitand fled.

That was enough to completely unman the others, andthey lost no time in taking to their heels also.

PURSUIT.

Frank had caused all this terror. As old readers know,he was a skillful ventriloquist, and he had seized the opportunityto work upon the superstitious fears of theignorant sailors. With a skill that was absolutely wonderfulhe had made the singing seem to come nearer andnearer till it was close at hand, and then he had laughedso the sound appeared to issue from the pit the men haddug.

It was sport for Frank, and he hoped to frighten themen away so completely that they would abandon theircaptive. This, however, they did not do. Capt. Hornkept a clutch upon the captive, whom he dragged alongas he hurried after the fleeing men, whom he savagelycursed as poltroons.

Capt. Horn did not know whence the ghostly voice hadcome, but, although he was startled, the sound of thatvoice had added to his belief that they really were ontrack of the pirate’s treasure. He had more than halfexpected something of a weird and ghostly nature wouldhappen, and he had tried to fortify the courage of hiscompanions so they would keep at work for all of anythingthat might happen.

But those sailors, who had promised faithfully not todesert him, were frightened, and they fled as if the veryOld Nick was in pursuit.

When Frank saw that Capt. Horn was dragging thecaptive away, he leaped up and ran to help the man; butthe dark lantern was dropped, and both captor and captivedisappeared in the shadows beneath the trees.

[Pg 54]

Frank ran in the direction he fancied they had taken.First he tripped over a stone and went sprawling uponthe ground; but he jumped up instantly and dashed onagain.

Bump—shash—grunt!

Frank was hurled down again, but this time he hadstruck the trunk of a tree, and he was stunned. It wassome moments before he could recover, but still he did notgive up the hope of rendering the captive some assistance.

When he got upon his feet he realized that the chancesof overtaking Horn and his captive in the darkness wasslim.

“Must do something,” he muttered. “What?”

Then he thought of the boat.

“Cut ’em off! Perhaps I can do that. I’ll try!”

He ran for the pier, hoping to get there ahead of Capt.Horn—hoping Capt. Horn and the captive would be thenext to arrive after he reached the spot.

Frank’s clothing was heavy with water, and thus hewas hampered. He could not see what lay before him,and he took chances of a broken neck. Two or three timeshe went down, but he came up again like a bounding rubberball.

“This—isn’t—anything—to—bucking—Harvard’s—line—in—football—game,”he panted.

He enjoyed it. The thought came to him that he wouldhave a jolly time telling the fellows of the adventure. Forone moment he saw in his fancy a crowd of friends gatheredin his room eagerly listening to the narration of thatnight’s adventures.

He did not wait for his friends to overtake him. Hehad lost them in the darkness, and he knew it would notdo to wait.

In a short time he approached the little steamboat pier,[Pg 55]still running like a racer, head up, and breathing throughhis nostrils.

“Wonder—if—I’m—ahead.”

He could not tell. When he was close to the pier, hestopped and listened.

He heard nothing but the sweep of the wind and theboom of the surf.

“Can it be they got here ahead? Can it be they aregone?”

He crept out on the pier and looked over. Was thata boat under the edge of the pier?

He let himself over, hung down, felt out with his feet,found the boat and dropped into her.

“This is the one they came ashore in,” he decided. “It’sthe only one here. I am ahead of them.”

The boat had drifted under the pier when he droppedinto her. He put his hands against the wet and slimytimbers and pushed her out. Then he started to climbup on the pier.

Hark! Voices close at hand! The men were coming!

He took hold of the edge of the timbers above andpulled himself up, but the moment his head rose abovethe edge of the pier he realized that the men were closeat hand. They were coming, and he could not get off thepier before they reached it!

“Trapped!”

He felt out with his feet, dropped back into the boat,sat down.

Then it was that Frank Merriwell’s brain workedswiftly. What was he to do? He thought of severalthings. His first thought was to cut the boat adrift, push*t under the pier, where they could not find it, and keepstill. Then he knew his friends would soon be comingdown to that pier, and, if the sailors were there, a collisionmust take place.

[Pg 56]

His hand touched something in the prow of the boat.

“A tarpaulin!” he whispered.

With that discovery a daring scheme entered his mind.Not one boy in a hundred would have ventured to carryit out had he thought of it.

The boat was fairly large, and there was little dangerthat one of the four men would be placed in the bow.

“Got to hustle!” whispered Frank, as he heard the feetof the men on the pier above his head.

He lifted the tarpaulin, crawled under it, stowed himselfas closely as possible in the forward end of the boat.

Not a moment too soon.

There was a tug at the rope, and the boat was draggedfrom beneath the pier. Then several cursing, growling,shivering men dropped into it.

Capt. Horn was there. He snarled at everybody, heswore at everybody, he was furious.

“A lot of lubberly cowards!” he raved. “A lot of fools!You were scared at nothing!”

“No, sir,” said a sullen voice. “I heard it, cap’n.”

“An’ I felt it’s touch, cap’n,” chattered another, whoseemed almost overcome with terror.

One of the men planted his heel fairly on Frank’s fingers,but Merry set his teeth and made no attempt to pullhis hand away, although he felt that his fingers wouldbe crushed. It was a great relief when the man removedhis foot.

Capt. Horn realized that his men were utterly overcomewith fear, and so he allowed them to push off fromthe pier and row toward the black schooner, which washidden in the darkness of the cove.

The waves beat against the boat with heavy thuds, butthe arms of the sailors were strengthened by fear, and[Pg 57]they pulled lustily, seeming in terror that the ghost ofthe pirate chief should follow them even after they hadleft the island.

Capt. Horn continued to curse and snarl. His captivewas silent.

That captive was a mystery to Frank. Surely it was notthe girl they had seen on the vessel. It was a man, butnot a word had Frank heard him speak.

The thought that he might be gagged came to Merriwell.Perhaps that was why he remained so silent.

The schooner was reached at last. There was a hailfrom the boat, answered from on deck, and then a linecame down from above, was caught, and they were alongside.

Frank remained quiet for a little time after the menhad left the boat. At last, he stirred, for he was in amost uncomfortable position, cramped and aching in everylimb.

With great caution, Merry pulled the tarpaulin off himand got a breath of fresh air. It had ceased raining, andit did not seem as if the wind was blowing as hard as ithad been.

“Short storm,” Frank decided; “but it was long enoughto raise the Old Nick with us and send Bart Hodge to thebottom. Poor Bart! I’ll never see him more!”

The thought made Frank sick at heart, and, for somemoments, he remained there motionless, benumbed by thisfresh sense of the loss of his friend.

Merry knew Bart had regarded him as a hero. Hehad reached out his hand and steadied Hodge more thanonce when the dark-faced, passionate lad was totteringon the brink of a precipice. His hand had guided Bart’swavering footsteps into the path of honor, and for hissake Hodge had studied for months that he might be[Pg 58]in condition to pass the examination and enter Yale thatspring.

And now he was gone!

No wonder Frank was sick and numb. After a timehe aroused himself and sat up.

A short line held the boat close under the stern of theblack schooner, upon which he could see no sign of life.

“I might cast off and slip ashore without a soul onthis vessel being the wiser,” he thought. “I could findthe boys and bring them on board. What could we dothen? There are, at least, four sailors. There are butfour of us. It is a sure thing that the sailors are armed,and we are not. It’s more than even chances that they’ddo us up in a square fight.”

It did not take him long to decide he would not be in ahurry about bringing the rest of the boys on board, but heresolved to go on board himself.

With the aid of the line, he pulled the boat close underthe stern of the vessel, and, a moment later, he slippedlike a cat over the rail of the Pirate and reached her deck.

Frank crouched low in the shadow of the wheel, listeningand trying to peer through the darkness. He saw nomoving thing. The wind was whistling through the riggingof the heaving schooner, and a loose rope was makinga slatting sound, but that was all.

Frank moved. He did not stand upright, but, on hishands and knees, he crept along the deck toward thecompanionway. He had not gone far before the soundof voices reached his ears.

“They are all below,” he decided.

The companionway was reached, and he started toslip down the stairs. He had not gone far before hehalted suddenly and turned his head, having heard asound behind him.

[Pg 59]

At that very moment, with a hoarse shout, a mansprang down the stairs and landed on Frank’s shoulders.

With a crash and a bump, they went to the bottomtogether. Frank received a shock that robbed him of hissenses for the moment, so that he was utterly helpless.

WHAT BECAME OF BART.

When Merriwell recovered a light was glaring straightinto his eyes, causing him to blink. He saw four rough-lookingmen around him, and realized that he was in thecabin of the mysterious vessel.

One of the men was Capt. Horn, and, on closer view, helooked more the ruffian than he had seemed at a distance.His beard was black as ink, while his huge nose wasturned up and his nostrils were wide open, like the mouthsof two black funnels. He showed his teeth as he saw thecaptured boy look up.

“It seems to be raining boys to-night,” he said, with asneer. “Well, I can take care of ’em as fast as they come.”

Frank looked at the others, and quickly decided thatthey were fit followers for such a captain.

“Excuse me,” he said, with an effort. “Just dropped in.Thought I’d come aboard and see how much you’ll ask totake me to New York. Must have slipped on the stairs—orsomething. Don’t seem to know what happened. Firstthing I knew I fell, and then—here I am.”

“Cute, ain’t ye!” sneered Capt. Horn. “Think you’llmake me swaller that, I suppose! Think I’m a durnedfool! Made a mistake this time—biggest mistake of yourlife.”

“You may be right,” acknowledged Frank, promptly.“It’s just like me. Seems to come natural for me to makemistakes. Made a mistake when I joined that picnic excursion.Made another when I let the boat go off withoutme. And now you say I made another when I came aboard[Pg 61]to see if you won’t take me back to New York. I am gettingit in the neck, sure.”

“What’s this you’re trying to tell, anyway? Spit itout. How’d you happen to be on the island?”

“Came down on an excursion, got left, and here I am.I’ll pay well if you’ll take me to New York.”

Capt. Horn pulled his beard and glared at Frank.

“What sort of an excursion?” he asked. “One of theregular kind from New York?”

“Of course,” answered Frank, thoughtlessly.

“You’re a liar!” said the man with the black beard, instantly.“Knew it all the time.”

“Thank you,” answered Frank. “You are polite.”

“I saw you on the small boat to-day,” said Capt. Horn.“You wanted to come on board then. How you ever succeededin doing so now is more than I can tell, but you’llbe sorry for it. When you go back to New York the tidewill take you there.”

“What are you going to do with me?”

“Feed you to ther fish, durn ye! It’s no use to askyou questions, for you’ll lie faster than I can ask ’em.Lies won’t do ye no good.”

“Sorry about that,” was Frank’s cool retort; “but it’llsave me a heap of trouble to invent ’em. Shan’t have torack my brain to get ’em up.”

Capt. Horn looked at the boy in astonishment. Frankwas a cool customer for his years.

Merry was securely bound, as he had already discovered.The men lifted him and flung him into a berth,where he was left to his thoughts, which might have beenmore pleasant.

Frank’s head had been injured in the fall, and itthrobbed painfully, but he made no murmur.

The men talked a while, and then fell to playing cards.[Pg 62]Three of them played, while the fourth remained on deck towatch.

Frank could see nothing of the captives.

The night wore on. Capt. Horn arose and looked intoFrank’s face. The boy’s eyes were closed, and he wasbreathing steadily and regularly.

“Never saw anything like that!” exclaimed the captain.“The youngster is asleep! He is a cool one!”

The watch on deck was changed, and the men tookturns in guarding Frank.

Toward morning, after going on deck, Capt. Horn announcedthat the wind had changed, and they could getout of the cove.

Merry still seemed to be sleeping when all the sailorswent on deck to get up the anchor and make sail.

Barely were they gone when Frank was startled by avoice that called:

“Hello, Merry!”

“Eh?” exclaimed Frank. “Who are you?”

A head rose up from the opposite berth. The lightshone full on the face of the person in that berth, andFrank Merriwell came near shrieking:

“Bart Hodge!”

Frank was incredulous. He could not believe the evidenceof his eyes. He was almost inclined to think himselfstaring at a phantom.

“Hodge—impossible!”

“Not a bit of it,” assured the voice of Hodge himself.“I am here, but I’m tied, like yourself, and it strikes me weare in a mighty bad scrape.”

“But—but we thought you dead,” said Frank. “Wefelt sure you were dead. How do you come to be here?”

“That’s an easy one. When the Jolly Sport slammedup against this vessel I thought she was a goner, and Imade a scramble to get on board here, expecting the rest[Pg 63]of you to follow. I was astonished when you failed to doso, and I looked down to see nothing of the boat. She wasgone, and I did not know but what she had gone to thebottom with the whole of you. They have kept me hereever since, for I was knocked over and tied up with ease,like the fool that I am! I’ve tried to get away, but it’s nouse. Then I heard you captured, and saw you draggedin here.”

This was very astonishing, but Frank Merriwell’s heartwas filled with thankfulness to know that Hodge stilllived. Hastily they talked over what had happened sincethe Jolly Sport was driven into the cove before the gale.

“Merry.”

“Yes, Bart.”

“Got a surprise for you.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t want to tell you now, but I know the captives—Capt.Horn’s captives. We must do something for them.You are full of schemes, old man; can’t you plan somethingnow?”

“I can plan enough, but the trouble is to put the plansinto execution. Where are the captives?”

“Beyond that door there.”

Frank saw a door at the farther end of the cabin. Hehad not noticed it before.

At this moment one of the sailors came down fromabove. The sound of hoisting the anchor had stopped, andit was evident that the man popped down to take a look atthe captives and make sure they were all right, for hestopped but a moment.

Soon the boys realized that the vessel was under way.They could tell by the motion.

Capt. Horn came down.

“Hello, cap,” called Frank. “Whither away?”

[Pg 64]

“Out to sea,” was the surly answer. “Going to dropyou over where it is deep.”

“Couldn’t persuade you to change your mind about that?I don’t want to be dropped overboard.”

The man grunted. After a time another man came below.Capt. Horn rolled into a bunk and slept.

Frank strained and worked at his bonds. At first itseemed that he simply made them cut deeper and deeperinto his wrists without loosening them in the least. Aftera time, he began to fancy he was making some progress.

If he could get his hands free he felt sure he would beable to liberate Hodge. Between them they could make afight for life and liberty.

Hours passed. Capt. Horn got up and went on deck,accompanied by the man who had been in the cabin withhim. Then the other two men came down and turned intothe bunks. They seemed exhausted, and quickly fellasleep.

Morning dawned.

With the coming of dawn, Frank succeeded in gettingone hand free. Then it was not long before he was entirelyfree, and he hastened to release Hodge.

Bart was palpitating with excitement.

“What’ll we do, Merry?” he asked, in a whisper.

“First set the other captives at liberty,” said Frank.“We must work lively.”

“Steady, then,” warned Hodge. “No matter whom yousee, do not utter a cry. Here, tie this handkerchief overyour face to your eyes.”

“What for?”

“So the captives will not raise a cry when they see you.”

Both boys tied handkerchiefs over their faces, and thenFrank approached the door. This was bolted and hasped.There was no lock upon it. It did not take Frank long to[Pg 65]shoot back the bolt and release the hasp. Then he slowlyopened the door, and looked into the small room beyond.

An old man was sitting helplessly in the corner, and ayoung girl, pale and wan, with tangled curls of yellow,lay on a bunk. The old man raised his head, and the girllooked up.

Frank recognized them both, and, despite the warningHodge had given him, came near uttering a shout.

Before him were Capt. Justin Bellwood and his daughter,Elsie!

Elsie Bellwood was there—Elsie, his old-time friend,who was so dear to him! She was a captive in the powerof those ruffians!

That thought was enough to make Frank furious anddesperate. He suddenly felt that he was able, single-handed,to conquer all the ruffians on that vessel.

With his hand he motioned for Capt. Bellwood andElsie to come forth. They realized that Frank was not oneof the ruffians, and Elsie sprang up.

“Come out here,” whispered Frank. “We want you tohelp us capture this vessel.”

New life and hope sprang up in the heart of the old seacaptain. He responded eagerly.

“Here,” whispered Merry, pointing to the sleepingsailors, “watch those fellows, and do not hesitate to crackthem over the head if they awaken. Take this stool, Capt.Bellwood, and give it to them if necessary. We are goingon deck to tackle Capt. Horn and the other fellow.”

The man nodded. He took the stool and stood ready.Then, to Frank’s surprise, Elsie picked up a heavy boot asa weapon and stood over the other man.

“Come!” whispered Frank.

With Hodge at his heels, he crept swiftly up the companionway.A peep on deck showed him one man at thewheel, while Capt. Horn was near. The vessel was plunging[Pg 66]through a sea of rolling billows, the aftermath of thestorm.

Capt. Horn’s back was turned.

“Now is our time!” hissed Frank, as he tore the handkerchieffrom his face and cast it aside, fearing it mighthamper him in some way.

Then he leaped on deck, with Bart close behind him,and they rushed at the two men.

The man at the wheel saw them, and uttered a cry.Capt. Horn whirled in a moment.

With loud shouts the boys rushed forward and Bartgrappled with the sailor at the wheel.

Horn managed to avoid Frank’s rush, and Merry sawhim tugging at his hip pocket. That was enough to indicatethat he was trying to draw a weapon.

Snatching up a belayingpin, Frank did not hesitate inattacking the ruffian with the black beard, who succeededin pulling forth the weapon his hand had sought.

Before Capt. Horn could use the revolver, Frank leapedforward and struck the weapon from his hand. A secondblow, delivered with all the strength and skill the youngYale athlete could command, stretched the ruffianly commanderof the Pirate upon the deck.

A coil of rope was close at hand, and, with the aid ofthat, Merry quickly bound the fallen man. Then he hastenedto the assistance of Bart, who was having a fiercebattle with the other sailor.

The two boys succeeded in downing the ruffian after atime, and then they tied him, as they had tied the captain.

Frank secured Horn’s revolver, and Bart obtained aknife from the other sailor. The wheel was set and lashed,and then both hastened below.

Capt. Bellwood and Elsie were still standing over thesleeping sailors, who had not been disturbed by the encounterthat was taking place on the deck.

[Pg 67]

At sight of Frank, Elsie uttered a cry of amazement andjoy, and nearly swooned. That cry aroused the men, butwhen they sat up one was astonished to find himself lookinginto the muzzle of a revolver, while the keen blade of awicked-looking knife menaced the other.

They were so astonished that they were incapable ofoffering resistance, and were easily captured.

Capt. Bellwood’s story was simple, but interesting. Beinga follower of the sea, it was not strange that he shouldacquire information purporting to reveal the whereaboutsof Kidd’s buried gold. His secret was known to anothersailor, and that sailor shipped with Capt. Horn. ThenJustin Bellwood and his daughter were lured to New York,and induced to board the Pirate, where they became Horn’scaptives. Horn knew every inch of the sound, and he setabout forcing Capt. Bellwood to reveal his knowledge ofthe supposed hiding place of Kidd’s treasure. Capt. Hornalso made love to Elsie, nearly driving her mad with fear,so that she attempted to jump overboard, an act that waswitnessed by the boys on board the Jolly Sport.

Fortune had worked in a singular manner to bring aboutthe undoing of Capt. Horn. When the ruffian and hiscrew were made secure, Capt. Bellwood took commandof the Pirate, running her back into the cove where Diamond,Browning and Rattleton were stranded. The reappearanceof the black schooner with Merriwell andHodge on board nearly paralyzed the three lads withamazement. It took considerable explaining to make clearto them how such a thing had come about.

Capt. Bellwood carried the boys over to New Haven,where he turned Capt. Horn and his crew of ruffians overto the authorities. It may be as well to add here that itafterward developed that Horn was a most notorious soundsmuggler. He was tried and convicted and sent to prison.His men all received short sentences.

[Pg 68]

Justin Bellwood was not able to recover Kidd’s treasure,although he tried to find it. Filled with superstitions,he sometimes wondered if the treasure had not been spiritedaway in some uncanny manner on the night that Horntried to dig it up.

As for the boys who sailed out of New Haven harborthat warm April day, they had a story to tell that wasmarvelous, and not even Frank Merriwell’s reputationfor veracity could make all who heard it believe it fully.

THE LONE FISHERMAN.

“Look!”

“Where?”

“On the corner. It’s another one of them!”

“It’s Browning!”

“Sure!”

“What is he doing?”

“Fishing, by the Lord Harry—fishing in the street!That is the most ludicrous spectacle yet. Ha! ha! ha!”

A burst of laughter came from the little band of studentswho had been making their way along one of NewHaven’s principal streets and come upon this astonishingspectacle:

Bruce Browning sat there on the corner, perched on ahigh stool, dressed like a fisherman, with a sailor’s “sou’wester”on his head, and rubber boots on his feet, gravelypretending to fish in the street with a pole and line.

Pedestrians paused to stare, poke each other in the ribs,laugh and chaff the big fellow on the stool, but he did notheed them in the least, calmly continuing to fish, as if heexpected at any moment to feel a bite.

Frank, Hodge, Pierson, Gamp, Griswold and Noonwere some of the students who had come upon this surprisingspectacle while walking along the street.

Noon was a prominent candidate for the position ofcatcher on the ’varsity ball team, but Hodge was cominginto notice through his work on the freshman nine, and,although he was a freshman, it was rumored that, aidedby the influence of Frank, he stood a chance of gettingon for a trial.

[Pg 70]

Joe Gamp was a big, awkward boy from New Hampshire,who, for all of the time he had spent in college, couldnot drop the vernacular of the farm. To hear him talkno one could have dreamed he was a college student, andthat he stood well in his class. And he stammered outrageously.

“Gug-gug-gug-great gosh!” he cried, standing with hishands in his pockets and staring at the fat youth on thestool. “Will somebody tut-tut-tell me what in thunder itmum-mum-mum-means? First we saw a fuf-fuf-fellerwalkin’ araound with his cuc-cuc-clothes turned wrongsus-sus-sus-side out, then another was bub-bub-bub-barkin’like a dorg, another was tryin’ to stand on his head in fuf-fuf-frontof the pup-pup-pup-post office, and here’sBrowning fuf-fuf-fuf-fuf—— Here is Bur-bub-bub-bub-bub—— Isus-sus-sus-sus——”

“Whistle, Joe!” laughed Frank. “Whistle, quick.You’re going backward, and you’ll have to say it all overif you don’t whistle.”

Gamp whistled.

“I sus-sus-sus”—whistle—“I say here’s Browning tut-tut-tryingto cuc-cuc-cuc-catch a fuf-fuf-fuf-fuf”—whistle—“afish in the middle of the sus-sus-street, just as ifhe was fishin’ in the dud-dud-dud-dud”—whistle—“thedeep blue sea. I don’t understand what all this bub-bub-businessis abub-bub-bout.”

“I didn’t know but the first fellow we saw was doing iton a wager,” said Bart; “but now——”

“Those fellows are candidates for some society,” explainedPierson. “They have been commanded to dothose things, and they dare not disobey if they wish topass.”

“Is that it?” cried Gamp, who was astonishingly greenfor a Yale man. “Well, dud-dud-darned if that ain’t fuf-fuf-fuf-funny!A-haw! a-haw! a-haw!”

[Pg 71]

He had a laugh that was like the braying of a mule,and a passing pedestrian dodged so suddenly that hejumped from under his hat, while an old lady with anumbrella turned and cried:

“Shoo! Git away! Don’t you bite me!”

She waved her umbrella in Gamp’s direction and peeredfearfully over her spectacles, as if she fully expected to seesome fierce wild beast rushing upon her.

That caused all the other boys to laugh again, while Joepaused, with his huge mouth wide open, and stared in surpriseat the excited and trembling old lady.

“Hey?” he cried.

“Mercy!” gasped the old lady. “I thought so. I thoughtit was a horse whickerin’ for hay.”

Then she hurried on, while the boys, with the exceptionof Gamp, were convulsed with merriment.

Joe stared after the old lady’s retreating form, gaspingfor breath.

“First tut-tut-tut-time I ever was took for a hoss!” heexclaimed.

“That’s a horse on you,” chuckled Danny Griswold.

Despite himself, Bruce Browning had not been able tokeep from turning his head a moment to see what all theexcitement was about. As he did so, a street urchin slippedout quickly and hitched a dead cat onto the end of theline that lay in the street, losing not a moment in scamperingout of sight.

Bruce pulled up the line to cast it out again, and the catcame with it.

Then there was another shout of merriment.

“Browning has met with a cat-astrophe,” laughedFrank.

“He’s caught a cat-fish,” cried Danny Griswold.

“Spt! spt! Me-e-e-ow! Ma-ri-ar!”

Danny Griswold gave vent to a perfect volley of cat-calls,[Pg 72]and there was an uproar of mirth around that corner.

Through it all Browning retained his sober dignity, removingthe cat from his hook, as if he had captured a fish,and flinging the line out into the street again.

A policeman, who was sauntering along at a distance,heard the sounds, and came rushing forward. He was agreen man on the force, and he had not been many moonson this side of the “pond.” He had red hair, and a facethat looked like a painful accident.

“Pwhat’s this, Oi dunno?” he exclaimed, burstingthrough the crowd and halting so suddenly that he nearlyfell over himself when he saw Bruce. “An’ now will yezbe afther tellin’ me pwhat ye’re doin’ there?”

Browning made no reply, but gravely pulled up his line,looked at the hook, as if to ascertain the condition of thebait, and again made a cast into the street.

The little Irishman grew red in the face.

“Look here, me foine b’y!” he cried, flourishing hisstick; “it’s the magisty av th’ law Oi ripresint, an’ Oi do beafther axin’ ye a quistion. Pwhat are yez doin’ there, Oiwant to know?”

Bruce remained silent.

The spectators looked on with interest, wondering whatthe outcome would be.

The policeman came a bit nearer Bruce, and againshook his stick, crying:

“Is it a lunathick ye are? It’s a foine spictacle ye do beafther makin’ av yersilf. Av ye don’t belave it, jist shtepover this way an’ take a look at yersilf a-sittin’ on thotstool loike a frog on a log. Get down now, ur Oi’ll plazeye under arrist!”

Browning did not heed.

“It’s me duty Oi’ll have to do,” declared the officer, ashe advanced on the big fellow; “an’ av ye resist me, Oi’ll[Pg 73]have to club th’ loife out av yez. It’s a lunathick ye are,an’ Oi know it. Come along now, to th’ station house.”

But as he was on the point of pulling the big fellow fromthe stool, Browning gave him a look that made him stagger.His face worked convulsively, and he looked aroundfor assistance.

“Pull him in, Paddy!” cried one of several town boys,who had gathered to see the fun, and who felt delighted tosee a student placed under arrest.

“Thot Oi will!” cried the little cop, as he advanced onBruce.

He caught the big fellow by the collar and yanked himoff the stool in a moment.

“If it’s a bit aff trouble ye’re afther givin’ me, Oi’llcrack yer shkull wid me shillayly,” he declared. “Comeon, now.”

Browning did not wish to be arrested, so he tried to arguewith the officer, but it was useless to talk.

“It’s a lunathick Oi know ye are,” said the policeman;“an’ it’s not safe to let yez run at large.”

“Take your hand off my collar!” said Bruce, sternly.“I have done nothing to cause you to arrest me.”

“Now none av yer thrits to me, ye spalpane!” shoutedthe policeman. “Coom along!”

He gave Bruce a yank.

It was a comical spectacle to see the little red-headedcop yanking about the giant of the college, but it did notseem very funny to Browning.

“Say,” he growled, thrusting his fist under the officer’snose, “if you do that again, I’m going to thump you once,for luck.”

The policeman had a violent temper, and very littlejudgment.

“Attimpting to resist arrist, are yez!” he shouted, and[Pg 74]then, without another word, he rapped Bruce over thehead, bringing the big fellow to his knees.

Browning had not looked for such a move, and he wasso stunned that he could not rise at once, whereupon thepoliceman lifted his club again, as if to hit him once more.

The blow did not fall.

Frank’s hand caught the club and held it back, PaulPierson and Bart Hodge yanked Browning to his feet,Danny Griswold gave the big fellow a shove, and the voiceof Ned Noon was heard shouting:

“Git!”

This turn of affairs was not at all satisfactory to thetown boys, who had been delighted when the officer startedto arrest one of the college lads.

At New Haven there is constantly more or less feelingbetween the town lads and the students. Sometimes thisfeeling is so strong that it is not safe for a well-knownstudent to be caught alone in town at a late hour of thenight. He is in danger of being stoned, pounded andforced to run for his life.

At the time of which we write the feeling between thecollege lads and the “townies” was rather bitter. Thusit came about that, as soon as Browning’s friends tried tohelp him, one of the watching toughs cried:

“Come on, fellers! Dey’re helpin’ der bloke git erway.It’s our duty ter stop dat.”

The gang didn’t care anything for duty, but they hadbeen called upon to do a thing by their leader, and theydid not hesitate about jumping in to the policeman’s aid.

Thus it came about that, in a very few seconds, a smallriot was taking place there on that corner, where, a shorttime before, all had seemed hilarity and good nature.

The little cop clung tenaciously to Browning.

“I call on yez to hilp me arrist this spalpane!” hesquealed.

[Pg 75]

“We’ll help yer!” declared the leader of the town lads.

“Yes you will!” flung back Bart Hodge, the hot colorof anger rushing to his face. “Yes you will—not!”

Then he went at the leader of the gang, and, before thatfellow was aware that he was attacked, Hodge crackedhim a blow between the eyes that sent him sprawling.

The downfall of their leader seemed to infuriate theothers.

“Thump ’em! Hammer ’em! Slug ’em!”

Uttering these cries, the roughs pitched into the collegeboys. Fists began to fly, and there was a hot time on thatcorner without delay.

The little cop rapped for assistance. While he wasdoing this, Browning gave him a twist and a fling thatbroke his hold and sent him flying into Bart Hodge’s arms.

Hodge was thoroughly aroused.

“You’re the cause of all this trouble, you little red-headedfool!” he grated.

Then, with a display of strength that was astonishing,Bart lifted the officer and hurled him violently against astone hitching-post. With a gasp and a groan, the policemandropped down limply and lay on the ground as if hehad been shot.

Bart was astonished by the remarkable manner in whichthe little man had been knocked out. He paused and staredat the motionless figure, a feeling of dismay beginning tocreep over him, for he realized that his ungovernable temperhad once again led him to do an act that he would nothave done in his sober moments.

“Great Scott!” shakily cried Ned Noon. “You’ve killedhim, Hodge!”

Bart said nothing, but he felt a pressure about his heart—asickening sensation.

It seemed that Noon was the only one of the party engaged[Pg 76]in the struggle who witnessed Bart’s thoughtless actof anger. The others were far too busy among themselves.

But all realized the officer had rapped for aid, and theyknew other policemen were sure to arrive on the spot verysoon.

“Got to run for it, fellows!” panted Griswold, as he putin his best licks. “Got to get away, or we’ll all be lockedup.”

Hodge plunged in to aid the others. He was a perfecttiger. Not even Frank seemed to fight with such fury andbe so effective. Bart bowled the “townies” over as if theywere tenpins.

It was not long before the fight was going in favor ofthe college men. Then another party of students happenedalong, and, at sight of them, the town lads promptly scatteredand ran.

“Now’s the time!” cried Merry. “We want to get out ofthis in a hurry, fellows.”

Then he saw the officer lying stretched on the ground,and stared at him in surprise.

“What’s the matter with him?” he asked.

“Nothing!” cried Hodge, feverishly. “He got a crackunder the ear, and it knocked him out. He’s all right.Come on.”

The college boys lost no further time in getting away.They separated and made their way back to the collegegrounds with certain haste.

As if by general consent, they proceeded to Merriwell’sroom. They found Frank there, making himself comfortablewhile he studied, as if nothing serious had happened.He welcomed them all as they appeared.

Pierson was the first, and he was followed by Griswold,who strutted proudly as he entered, crying:

“Did you see me do ’em up, fellows? Did you see me[Pg 77]lay ’em out? Oh, I’m a hot biscuit right out of thebakery!”

“Quite a little racket, eh, Merriwell,” smiled Pierson.

“Sure,” nodded Frank. “We needed something to stirup our blood. We were getting stagnant here of late.”

Joe Gamp came lumbering in.

“Dud-dud-dud-dog my cuc-cuc-cuc-cats!” he stuttered.“Ain’t seen so much fun as that sence I was a fuf-fuf-freshman.But Browning did look comical up on that sus-sus-stool.A-haw! ha-aw! a-haw!”

Even as Gamp roared with laughter, Bruce came slouchinginto the room. He sat down and kicked off the rubberboots, which were too large for his feet, then he flungaside the “sou’wester,” removed his oilskin jacket, andstretched himself wearily on the couch, observing:

“Fishing is thundering tiresome work.”

“Were you doing it on a wager, old man?” asked Griswold.

“No,” yawned Bruce; “I was doing it on a stool.”

That was all they could get out of him. It was plainthat he did not want to talk about it, and did not mean totalk.

“Anyway, we did up the townies all right,” said Frank.“There was some sport in that.”

“Too much work,” grumbled Bruce. “Everything is toomuch work, and work was made for slaves.”

Ned Noon came in and looked around.

“Where is Hodge?” he asked.

Bart was not there, but they fancied he would put in anappearance very soon, so, while they discussed the fightwith the “townies,” they kept looking for Hodge.

But Bart did not appear.

“Hope he wasn’t pinched,” said Frank. “He’s so proudthat arrest would seem a frightful disgrace to him.”

There was a queer look on the face of Ned Noon.

HODGE IN DANGER.

Frank was crossing the campus when a voice called tohim:

“Hey, Merry, hold on; want to speak with you.”

He looked around, and saw Danny Griswold hurryingtoward him. There was a strangely serious look on theface of the little fellow, who was of a jovial nature andseldom inclined to take anything seriously.

The moment Frank saw Danny’s face, he realized somethingwas wrong.

“What is it, old man?” he asked, as Griswold came up,panting.

“They’re looking for the fellow who did it.”

“Did what?”

“Broke his ribs.”

“Broke whose ribs?”

“The cop’s.”

“Why, the little fellow with the red head and liver face.”

“The one who tried to arrest Browning?”

“Same.”

Frank whistled.

“And his ribs were broken?”

“That’s it. He says it wasn’t the big fellow who did it,but some other chap slammed him up against a stone postand smashed his ribs in. Officers have been here trying tolocate the fellow. We’re in danger of being pulled up aswitnesses—or worse.”

“Accused, you mean?”

“Any of us may be.”

“Well, who did it, anyway?”

[Pg 79]

“Hodge.”

Frank started.

“Hodge?” he cried. “Are you sure, old man?”

“No.”

“Then why did you say that?”

“Noon says Hodge slammed the cop up against thepost.”

“Noon says so, eh? Did he see it?”

“Says he did.”

“And he is talking about it openly?”

“Don’t know about that. He talked to me about it.”

“Anybody else present?”

“No.”

“I must see Noon.”

Merriwell was aroused, for he realized that Bart Hodgewas in danger. Were Hodge arrested for injuring the policeman,and should the charge be proved against him, hiscollege career might come to a sudden termination.

Frank had pulled his friend out of more than one badhole, and he believed he understood Bart’s nature prettywell. Hodge was again on the high road to an honorablecareer, guided by Merriwell’s hand, but to thwart him atthe very outset of his college life would mean almost certainruin.

Merry’s teeth came together with a click when he realizedthe danger that menaced Bart.

“I’m afraid you made a mistake in introducing thatfreshman to our gang,” complained Griswold. “None ofthe fellows cared to know him, but they accepted him simplybecause of your friendship toward him. This is theresult.”

Frank was not pleased by Danny’s words. They did notsound as if they came from the little fellow’s mouth.

“None of my friends were forced to meet Bart Hodge,”he said, quietly. “Hodge and I were schoolmates together,[Pg 80]and, when he came to Yale, I was not going to be cadenough to cut him because he is in a lower class than myself.I am not built that way.”

“Oh, you might have treated him decent, without havinghim in your room so much.”

“No, you are mistaken. At Fardale Academy we wereroommates. What sort of a fellow would I have been hadI shown, when he came to Yale, that he was not wanted inmy room?”

Danny did not answer the question, but stood grindinghis heel into the ground, looking downward.

“I trust you see plainly enough that I did what anywhite man should do, Gris?” said Frank, letting a handfall on Danny’s shoulder.

“Oh, I am not going to set myself up as a judge ofyour actions,” was Griswold’s impatient retort. “All Iknow is what it has brought us to. If I am pulled up andforced to tell what I know about the way the cop washurt——”

“What will you tell? What do you know? You confessedto me that you did not see it.”

Frank cut in rather sharply, giving Griswold a start.Danny looked rattled and flushed.

“Oh, I didn’t see it, but Noon told me——”

“That sort of evidence will not go, old man, and youshould know it. Take my advice, and keep still. Thisbusiness must be hushed up, and it will be the fellow whotalks too much that will get us into trouble.”

“What if you are pulled up and questioned? Are yougoing to swear to a lie?”

It was Frank’s turn to flush, but the flush was one ofindignation.

“Did you ever know me to lie?” he asked, sharply.

“No, but this is different, and——”

“It will not be necessary for me to lie about this in order[Pg 81]to shield Hodge. I did not see anything. I did not seethe cop injured. I can swear to that, and it’s all they’llever get out of me.”

After a moment of silence, Griswold said:

“We may be able to protect Hodge by keeping silent, butI want to give you some advice, Merry. I am serious now.Don’t grin at me. This is one time in my life when I amnot thinking of anything funny, as the fellow said whenthe surgeons were getting him ready to cut off his leg.If you are wise, you’ll let up on one thing you have beentrying to do.”

Frank could not help grinning when he thought of takingadvice from Griswold, but he tried to look serious, andsaid:

“Go on.”

“You have been pushing Hodge for the nine. Is thatright?”

“Well,” admitted Frank, “I have been using my influenceto get him on, for I know he is a corker.”

“Drop it!” cried Danny, pulling out a package of cigarettesand extracting one. “It won’t go, and you are goingto get the other candidates for the position of catcher downon you. Hodge is a very fresh freshman, and he does notstand a show of getting on the nine this year.”

“I am not so sure of that,” said Frank, quietly. “I goton in my freshman year, if you will remember.”

“I know, but circ*mstances brought that about. Yalewas in a hole for pitchers. You did some clever twirlingon the freshman nine, and you were tried as a desperateexpedient. That is the secret of your getting on the ’varsitynine your first year in college.”

“Well, Hodge did some clever backstop work last Saturday,when the scrub played the regular nine. He playedon the scrub, and he made a better record than either Noonor Stone, who took turns on the regulars.”

[Pg 82]

“Oh, that was a chance, and it didn’t show his mettle,for there was nothing at stake. He had better opportunitiesthan the other fellows, that’s all.”

“Come off!” cried Frank, dropping into slang. “He didbetter throwing, and he would have caught every man whotried to steal second if the pitcher had not been a little slowin his delivery. As it was, he caught four men, while Noonand Stone caught only one each. He did not have a passedball, for all that the pitcher was wild as a hawk, and he gotthree fine hits.”

“Two of which were off you, Merry. That part of itdidn’t fool anybody. Ha! ha! ha!”

Frank flushed again.

“By that I presume that you mean to insinuate that Igave him easy ones, so he might hit it out. Look here,Gris, I have told you that I do not lie. Now I am goingto tell you that I did my level best to fool Hodge, for hehad told me that he would bat my eye out. I thought Iknew his weak points. I gave him a high inshoot, andhe got a pretty single off it; I gave him one round his ankles,and he lifted it out for three bags. The fellow whosays I favored him in the least says something that is nottrue.”

“Oh, well,” said Danny, shortly, “I am not here to talkbaseball. Anyway, I don’t think Hodge stands a ghost ofa show to catch on. Noon is the man who will get there.”

“Nit!” muttered Frank, as Danny walked away, smoking.

NED NOON MAKES AN OFFER.

What Danny had said to Frank set the latter to thinking.Up to that time he had not been aware that any ofhis friends were kicking because of his being chummy withHodge.

Had Merriwell been a sophom*ore and Hodge a freshmanthe situation would have been altered materially, forsophom*ores and freshmen are natural enemies, and it isregarded as a crime for a soph to be chummy with a fresh.

On the other hand, there is more or less friendliness betweenjuniors and freshmen. Juniors do everything theycan to encourage freshmen in their struggle against thesophom*ores, even going so far as to marshal them for theirrushes and give them points to be observed in their struggleswith the sophom*ores.

It is true that there seldom seems to be any further bondof sympathy between freshmen and juniors than the dislikeof both for sophom*ores. The discomfiture and downfallof the freshmen arouses nothing like pity on the partof the juniors; more often it causes the latter to openly expresscontempt.

At first, the apparent friendliness of the juniors leadsthe unsophisticated freshmen to think the third year menreally like them, and have sympathy for them; but it doesnot take long for the freshies to discover their mistake—itdoes not take long for them to find out they are a thingquite apart from the juniors in every conceivable mannerexcept their mutual dislike for sophom*ores.

Still, it sometimes happens that a junior and a freshmanmay become chums, while such friendliness between a[Pg 84]freshman and a sophom*ore would be regarded as a disgraceto the latter.

Frank had an independent way; he did not seem to carefor traditions or precedent. He had shown that all along,but never so strongly as since becoming a junior. Almosthis first act was to show friendliness toward a freshmanbully, after conquering the latter in a fair struggle. Thisbrought forth a howl from those who believed the onlyproper thing for him to do was to treat the bully withscorn and contempt after downing him.

But Frank kept calmly on his way, doing what he believedwas right, regardless of anything that was said.

And now that Hodge was in college, he had chosen toaccept Bart as a chum. If his former friends did not likeit, he could not help it. He knew Bart Hodge’s nature,and he knew Hodge would need to be steadied by the handof a friend after entering college, else he would be certainto fall under evil influences and go wrong.

Frank had used his influence to get Bart on the ’varsitynine because he believed Hodge a better backstop thanany of the candidates for the position.

Yale’s catcher of the two preceding years had graduatedand gone West, which left the position vacant.

Good pitchers are absolutely necessary on a good ballteam, but the work of a good pitcher can be ruined by apoor catcher. The pitcher shines as the bright, particularstar, but it is the work of the man behind the bat, almostas much as the pitcher’s own skill, that makes him shine.

A good catcher steadies and encourages a pitcher at alltimes, and particularly at such moments as the game ishanging in the balance so that a safe hit or a fumble maywin it or lose it. At such a time, if the pitcher has perfectconfidence in his catcher, he stands a good show of doinghis level best; but if he lacks confidence, he may think the[Pg 85]game is lost anyway, and fail to exert himself to his utmost.

Frank had first pitched to Bart on the old FardaleAcademy nine, at which time the Fardale battery was awonder and a terror to the ball teams of the surroundingcountry. Fardale had never lost a game with Merriwelland Hodge as the battery.

On the sporting trip across the continent, Frank foundoccasion to pitch to Bart again, and he discovered thatHodge had lost none of his cunning. Merriwell’s “YaleCombine” played against the regular Fort Worth professionals,Fort Worth having the famous “Dad” Morse inthe box, and beat them by the remarkable score of two toone.

In this game the throwing and batting of Hodge was afeature, and Frank Merriwell was delighted to find Hodgein old-time form. On the following day, Merriwell andHodge had acted as battery for Fort Worth, the Texanseasily defeating the Little Rocks, who were the leadersof the Southern League.

Frank had the Fort Worth papers containing records ofthe games, and he had placed them before the baseballcommittee and the captain of the ’varsity nine, calling attentionto the fact that in the two games Hodge had nothad a passed ball, had not made an error, had obtainedseven assists, six hits and two scores. A record to beproud of, considering the fact that he was in company thatwas considered very fast.

But Hodge was a freshman, which counted against himin the eyes of the committee. The other candidates for theposition were a sophom*ore, a junior and a senior. It wasacknowledged that the senior had slight show of gettingon. It was not his first attempt to get under the bat. Hehad played an outfield position one year, and had beensubstitute catcher one year, but this counted against him, if[Pg 86]anything, for he had never done anything particularlybrilliant.

The other two men, however, Ned Noon, the junior,and Roger Stone, the sophom*ore, stood a fair chance ofmaking the team. It was whispered about that Noon hadsome sort of “pull” with the committee, and he was almostsure to catch on, for all that it was thought Capt. Hardyfavored Stone.

Hodge was called “Merriwell’s candidate,” and, for allof Frank’s popularity, for all of the fact that he waslooked on as the mainstay of the nine that season, it wasagreed that Bart did not have much show of making thenine.

Frank, however, persisted in his attempt to get Bart on.Up to the time of his talk with Griswold he had not suspectedthe feeling that existed in relation to Hodge. Nowhe saw it all, and he realized that Bart was in doubledanger.

“He has injured a policeman, and, should it becomeknown, some of his enemies might hold it over him. Imust have a talk with him.”

Frank started for Farnham Hall without delay.

Just outside the wide doorway, before putting his footon the steps, he paused, brought to a sudden halt by thesound of voices within.

“Noon!” he thought.

Then he heard another voice.

“And Hodge!” he added.

The rivals were standing just within the doorway, talkingearnestly. Frank could see the back of Bart’s coat.

The first words that reached his ears caused Frank tostop thus suddenly.

“I tell you that you are in for it, Hodge. You knockedthe cop out, and it will go hard with you if the job is fastenedupon you.”

[Pg 87]

“Well, I can’t help it if it does,” said Bart, and therewas a sullen sound in his voice. “I didn’t mean to hurt thelittle runt, but it was my confounded quick temper thatcaused me to fling him up against the post.”

“You made a fool of yourself,” declared Noon, with asneering inflection.

“Well, I don’t need to have you come and tell me ofit!” cried Bart, angrily.

“If it is known that you did the job, you stand a goodshow of being dropped from Yale with a dull thud.”

Not a sound from Hodge.

Merriwell was no eavesdropper, and he started to ascendthe steps; but he dropped back and stood still, brought toa stop by Noon’s next words.

“I am the only fellow of our crowd who saw you flingthe cop up against the post. The others were too busy attendingto the ‘townies.’ If I keep still, you stand a goodchance of escaping; but, if I tell, you are a goner. Thatmakes it plain enough that I can wind you up in a momentif I want to.”

Frank would have given something to be able to see theexpression on Bart’s face when those words were spoken,but he could not do so. Breathlessly he awaited Hodge’sretort.

“So that is your game, is it?” grated the voice of Merry’sFardale chum. “Well, I swear, I did not think it ofyou, and I haven’t liked you, either!”

“You are shooting off too soon,” hastily said Noon. “Ididn’t say I had any game at all, but I wanted you to understandjust where you stood. You can do me a favor.Of course, I would not be mean enough to go back on afellow who did me a favor. Instead of that, I would protecthim, if necessary, by swearing one of the ‘townies’knocked out the cop.”

“I do not ask that much of my friends, much less of[Pg 88]you!” flashed Hodge. “If you want to blow on me, goahead. All I can say is, that I’ll punch the face off youif you do!”

“You wouldn’t get the chance,” declared Noon. “You’dbe pulled for assaulting an officer in performance of hisduty, and it would go hard with you.”

Again Hodge was silent.

Once more Merriwell was on the point of ascending thesteps, when Noon began again:

“There is no reason why we should be enemies, Hodge.We should be friends——”

“Not by a long distance!” exclaimed Bart, contempt inhis voice. “I know you now too well for that, Ned Noon!We can’t be friends.”

“Oh, have it as you like; but you’ll find it for your goodnot to make an enemy of me.”

Hodge uttered a scornful exclamation.

“Oh, you needn’t turn up your nose!” cried Noon; “foryou’ll have to pull it down again. I see I’ve got to talkstraight to you. You make me tired! For a freshman youput on too many airs. What I want to say is this: If itwasn’t for Merriwell’s influence, you would not have aghost of a show to get on the nine. As it is, you do notstand much chance, but——”

“But you are worried,” sneered Bart. “That is remarkable.”

“You do not stand much chance,” Noon repeated; “butI shall stand a better show if you retire, for the only managainst me who is at all dangerous will be Stone. It iseasy enough for you to get out. You can tell Merriwellthat you have decided not to play, anyhow. That willsettle it, if you stick to it. If you do that, I’m ready toswear that I saw one of the ‘townies’ flop the little cop upagainst the post.”

FRANK TALKS PLAINLY.

Merry listened breathlessly to hear what Hodge wouldsay to that.

There was a few seconds of silence, during whichFrank fancied he could hear Bart breathing heavily.Then Hodge spoke, and the scorn and contempt in his voicewas withering.

“You have proved yourself to be just the cheap cur thatI thought you were at first!” he said. “Nobody but adirty dog would try to get the best of a rival in such amanner!”

Frank felt like crying out, “Good for you!” but claspeda hand over his mouth and held back the words, while helaughed softly with intense satisfaction.

Noon uttered a curse.

“Do you dare to talk to me like that, you miserablefreshman!” he grated. “Why, I’ll—I’ll——”

“What will you do?” asked the voice of Hodge, tremblingwith eagerness. “I wish you would do something!I’d like to have you lift your hand to me, Noon! I’d takedelight in soaking you just once, and I do not feel like itas long as you keep your hands down. Oh, do put ’emup! I don’t know but I’ll let you hit me once, if you will!”

Frank laughed out loud, but the excited lads within thedoorway did not notice it.

“That’s Hodge—the same old Hodge!” thought Merry.“The blood in his body is boiling now. He would eatNoon.”

“Oh, so you’re a fighter!” sneered Noon. “Well, I amnot going to fight with you. I would not disgrace myself[Pg 90]by fighting with such a fellow as you are. But I wantyour answer.”

“You shall have it. Here it is!”

A second later, Noon came tumbling down the steps, assistedby Bart Hodge’s boot, which struck with violencebeneath Ned’s coattail, fairly lifting the fellow off his feet.

“That’s my answer!” called Hodge, from the doorway.“Now, go ahead and do your worst, you dirty sneak!”

Noon picked himself up, cursing bitterly. One of hishands was cut and bleeding, and the left knee of his pantswas torn.

“That settles your hash!” he snarled, shaking his fist atBart, and failing to observe Merriwell in his rage. “I’llcook you for that!”

He turned away, and, with a biting laugh, Hodge disappeared,ascending the stairs.

Frank started after Noon, quickly overtaking him.

“I want to speak with you,” he said, quietly.

Noon started and turned pale. He was tying a handkerchiefabout his injured hand.

“What do you want?” he huskily asked.

“Hold on a minute, and I will tell you.”

“I don’t want to stop here,” said Ned, looking around.“I have fallen and torn my trousers, besides hurting myhand here. If you wish to talk to me, you know whereto find my room.”

“I am not going up to your room,” said Frank, quietly;“and I am going to talk to you now. What I have to saywill not detain you long.”

“All right, go ahead,” snapped Ned, scowling.

“I happened to see you when you took your tumble,”said Frank, still speaking smoothly and serenely. “I knowall about it, for I overheard by accident some of the conversationbetween you and Hodge.”

[Pg 91]

Noon’s face turned paler than it had been, and he bit hislip. Then, with a sudden effort at bravado, he snapped:

“Well, what of it?”

“I heard your threat to blow on Hodge.”

“What of that?”

“You will not blow.”

“By the eternal blazes, I will!” cried Noon, his eyesglaring. “I will get even with that fellow!”

“You will do nothing of the sort.”

“Who will prevent me?”

“I will!”

The eyes of the two met squarely. For some momentsNed tried to look straight at Frank, but, after a little, hiseyes drooped, but he sneered:

“You? I know you are the chum of that sneakingfreshman, but I fail to see how you can keep me fromblowing on him.”

“I’ll tell you how,” came quietly from Frank. “If youblow on him, I am going to blow on you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that I will tell what I know—what I overheard.I will tell how you tried to frighten Hodge intogiving up the attempt to make the nine. How you threatenedto blow on him about the affair with the cop if hedidn’t withdraw, and how he booted you out of FarnhamHall, as you deserved. How do you like that?”

“It won’t save Hodge,” muttered Noon, sullenly.

“Perhaps not; but it will cook you. How much showdo you think you will stand when it is known that youresorted to such an expedient to get a rival out of the way?You will be branded as a sneak, and your friends willavoid you.”

Noon was whiter than ever.

“I don’t know,” he said; “perhaps my word is as goodas yours.”

[Pg 92]

“Perhaps so. If you think so, go right ahead and seewhere you land. I’ll go you ten even that you strike onthe back of your neck. I know you will not make thenine. You will defeat yourself by your own meanness.”

Frank was talking plain. He believed it was necessaryto talk thus to a fellow like Ned Noon. He felt that Nooncould not be shamed into abandoning his plot againstHodge, but he might be brought to do so through fear.

Ned ground his teeth, for he began to realize that Merriwellwas right in saying he could do so much. Frankhad influence, and he would be believed.

“I am giving it to you straight, Noon,” said Merry.“Have a little reason. Do you want to knock yourself outjust to down a rival? You say Hodge does not stand muchof a show getting on the nine. Then, if this is the case,you are liable to beat him in a fair and square manner. Itstrikes me that such a thing would be far better revengethan beating him in a sneaking manner. It would be farbetter to beat him in an honest struggle than it would tohave him withdraw and thus give you a better chance ofgetting on the nine. Isn’t that plain? If you won overhim fairly, you would have a chance to crow.”

Frank was talking in his smoothest manner, and he wasmaking his words count.

“Perhaps you are right,” admitted Noon, after a time.“I had not thought of it in that light. But, if I agree tolet Hodge alone, you must promise not to tell what youoverheard. Will you promise?”

“Sure.”

“Then it’s a bargain.”

Soon after they separated.

Frank sought the officer who had been hurt, and foundhim in the hospital. The little Irishman did not recognizeFrank as one of the students.

[Pg 93]

“Mr. O’Farrel,” said Frank, “I wish to speak with youconcerning a matter of importance.”

O’Farrel gave Merry a close scrutiny.

“Pwhat’s thot ye want to spake about?” he asked, suspiciously.“It’s yersilf Oi dunno at all, at all.”

“My name is Merriwell,” said Frank, “and I am a student.”

A look of anger came into the face of the injured cop.

“An’ is thot pwhat ye are?” he cried, glaring at Merry.“May th’ ould b’y floy away wi’ all studints, yersilf included!Divvil a bit av good are they at all, at all. Lookat me, mon! Oi’m here fer doin’ av me duty an’ attimptin’to arrist wan av thim spalpanes, bad cess to him!”

“That is what I wished to see you about, sir,” saidMerry, in a manner that seemed to indicate that he hadsomething he wished to say to O’Farrel in confidence.

“Well, now, me b’y, Oi dunno pwhat ye want ter seeme about thot fer. There’s some av thim hillions thot Oi’llmake sorry they iver bothered wid Patsy O’Farrel in th’discharge av his duty. Here Oi am in bid, wid me bodybruised, an’ it’s a miracle that none av me bones arebroken.”

Frank started slightly.

“It was fortunate that none of your bones werebroken,” he said.

“But me back is spraint so it pains me th’ whole toime,”said O’Farrel, hastily.

“I believe it was thought at first that some of your ribswere broken?”

“Yis, Oi thought so mesilf, but th’ docthers say Oi’mnot thot bad hurrut.”

Frank drew a breath of relief, feeling thankful, indeed,for this knowledge.

The little cop began to scowl again, and pucker up hishomely face.

[Pg 94]

“So it’s a studint ye are?” he exclaimed. “Well, Oidunno thot Oi want to talk wid ye at all, at all.”

“But I know something you may desire to know, Mr.O’Farrel.”

“Oi’m not sure av thot.”

“I understand you are anxious to learn just who it wasthat threw you against the post and injured you?”

“Pwhat av thot?”

“Perhaps I can tell you.”

An eager look came into the face of the man on the cot.

“Av ye can do thot——” he began; then he stoppedshort, showing suspicion. “Pwhy should ye be aftherdoin’ such a thing?” he asked. “Is it not a studint ye saidye wur?”

“Yes; but I might tell you what you want to know, justthe same.”

“Divil a bit ye will! Thim studints shtick by ache ithertoo well fer anything loike thot. It’s foolin’ me ye’retroying to do.”

“You are hasty in your conclusions, sir,” said Frank,calmly. “I know that, as a rule, students stand by eachother; but there are exceptions to every rule. Now it ispossible that, for some very good reason, I may wish todivulge to you the name of the fellow who laid you up. Itis possible that he is an enemy of mine, and I am takingthis means to hurt him.”

“Is thot it?” said O’Farrel, slowly, again keenly scrutinizingFrank’s face. “Oi’ll confiss Oi didn’t take ye ferthot sort av a chap at all, at all.”

“You can’t always tell what a man will do by the looksof his face,” laughed Frank, flushing.

“An’ ye want to blow on another studint?”

“Well, I saw a part of your encounter with the students,and I know who it was that did you up. If you are[Pg 95]going to make it hot for him, it is possible that I will tellwhat I know.”

“Oh, Oi’ll make it hot fer th’ spalpane! An Oi’ll makeit hot fer th’ rist av th’ gang! They intherfered wid anofficer in th’ discharge av his duty, an’ a sorry piece avbusiness it will be fer thim!”

“How long will you be laid up, do you know?”

“A week, th’ docthers say.”

“Perhaps two weeks?”

“Oi can’t afford thot. Oi have me family to support.”

“How much is your salary a month?”

O’Farrel told Frank.

“And you may lose half a month’s wages. That istough.”

“Sure an’ it is!”

“Now, Mr. O’Farrel,” said Merry, in his most suavemanner, “there is such a thing as a misfortune that is ablessing in disguise. You have no accident policy, and youneed money. How would you feel if you were to receiveduring the time that you are idle a sum every week doubleyour regular salary, besides having all your bills paid?”

FRANK AND THE POLICEMAN.

O’Farrel gasped.

“Here! here! here!” he cried; “don’t be afther tryin’any av yer funny thricks on me! Oi won’t shtand fer it!”

“There is nothing funny about this; it is sober, seriousbusiness. Although you have not been long on the force,Mr. O’Farrel, you have distinguished yourself by yourcourtly bearing, your utter fearlessness and your politenessto the ladies. You have been a bright and shining staron the New Haven force, shedding brilliant effulgencearound you, so that, although in your modesty you werenot aware of it, you were regarded with admiration andesteem by a large number of citizens. Whenever you wereon night duty, the belated citizen who passed over yourbeat felt that he was safe, for he knew you were a terrorto footpads. In the daytime the ladies went blocks out oftheir way in order to have you escort them across thestreet. The moment it was known that you had been injured,there was general sorrow and indignation. Then itwas that your friends showed themselves, and they haveraised a fund to be paid you as long as you shall be incapacitatedfor work.”

O’Farrel nearly lost his breath.

“In—inca—— Pwhat’s thot mane?” he gurgled.

“It means as long as you are unable to perform yourduties.”

“Is thot it? Oi didn’t know but it wur th’ name avsome new disease. You don’t be afther tellin’ me thotth’ citizens av New Haven are goin’ to pay me fer bein’hurted?”

[Pg 97]

“Exactly that.”

“Oi’ll belave it whin Oi receive th’ money.”

“Here is your first week’s payment,” said Frank, producinga roll of bright new bills and dangling them beforethe officer’s eyes.

“Let me fale ’em,” said O’Farrel, reaching out.

“Wait a bit,” said Frank, putting the money behind hisback. “There is a condition. You can do a certain persona favor.”

“Oi thought there wur something behind all thot.Pwhat shall Oi do?”

“Keep your mouth shut.”

“Kape me mouth shut? How?”

“About the manner in which you were hurt. Tumble?Catch on?”

O’Farrel looked doubtful.

“Oi dunno,” he confessed. “Will ye be afther makin’it a bit plainer?”

“That’s easy. Certain persons in New Haven—friendsto you—are interested in the chaps who were concernedin this unfortunate affair. They are also interested inyou. They do not wish you to bring harm to the students,and they do not wish you to be at any loss on accountof that unfortunate encounter.”

The injured man looked still more bewildered.

“It’s big worruds ye are afther usin’ now,” he said,hazily. “Oi’m worse mixed thin Oi wur before.”

“I am trying to make it plain that it is for your interestnot to push this matter. Doctor says you are not muchhurt. It was a boy who hurt you. You are an officer, andyou do not want it known that a boy without a whisker onhis face did you up. Some folks might think you were nogood. The ladies who have walked blocks out of theirway to have you assist them across the street would turntheir backs on you. The citizens who have felt perfectly[Pg 98]safe while passing along your beat at night would feel safeno longer. Burglars and footpads who have trembled atthe mention of your name would sneer at you. You wouldfall into deep disgrace. It is more than likely that youwould be fired from the force as inefficient.”

O’Farrel blinked and gasped again.

“Begobs! Oi niver thought av thot,” he muttered.

“You can see it plainly enough now. You must statethat the fellow who slammed you against the post was agiant—six feet four. Say he caught you from behind.Say another fellow hit you with a baseball bat. Say youare satisfied you were mistaken in thinking them students.Say they must have been hoodlums of the town.”

“An’ pwhat do Oi get fer thot?”

“This!”

Again Frank flourished the money before Patsy O’Farrel’sgreedy eyes.

“You get this now,” declared Frank. “You get as muchmore next week. You get another lot the next week, if thedoctor says you are not fit to go back to duty.”

“Begorra! it’s a timptation.”

“No temptation; an act of friendship on the part ofyour friends. And your friends are working for yourgood.”

“Pwhat av they bring th’ spalpane that did it beforeme?”

“You must fail to recognize him. That is easy. Youmight say you never saw him before. You might call attentionto the fact that you are an officer who could handlesuch a boy with one hand. You might become indignantto think that anybody fancied such a boy could do youup.”

“It’s a good schame; but Oi’m not sure this ain’t athrap.”

Frank saw that he must allay O’Farrel’s suspicions, and[Pg 99]he talked his prettiest. When he made the effort, Frankcould be extremely suave and persuasive. Never in hislife was he more persuasive than just at that time. Occasionallyhe would flourish the bright, new bills beforeO’Farrel’s eyes.

At last the officer succumbed. He took the money, andthen Frank snapped out a little book, saying:

“Sign here, Mr. O’Farrel.”

“Soign! Soign pwhat?”

“Your name.”

“Th’ divvil Oi will! Ye don’t catch me thot way!Whoy should Oi sign me name, Oi dunno?”

“Receipt. That’s all. Reads like this: ‘Received ofFrank Merriwell the sum of twenty-five dollars, in considerationof which I agree to his proposal.’ That’ssimple.”

“It looks loike a thrap.”

“No trap.”

“Phwat av ye wur to show thot recate against me?”

“You could swear that the proposal was any old thing.If I swore it was something else, your word is as good asmine. As you are an officer, it should be a little better.This is a mere formality—a matter of business. I alwaystake a receipt when I pay out money.”

“It’s an Oirishman ye ought to be, me b’y,” declaredO’Farrel, admiringly. “It’s a slick tongue ye have in th’head av yez.”

Then he signed the receipt, and Frank left the hospital,feeling well satisfied with the result of his visit.

“I believe Hodge is safe now,” he thought.

He was right. Somebody “blowed” on Hodge, andBart was taken before O’Farrel. The injured policemanlooked him over, and then positively stated that Hodge wasnot the one who slammed him against the post. He addedthat he did not remember Bart at all.

[Pg 100]

Hodge was released.

Ned Noon swore when he learned of this.

“Beastly luck!” he grated. “Thought I had fixed it soHodge would get snapped. That cop must be a fool!”

Others were taken before O’Farrel, Browning amongthem, but he failed to say that he recognized one of them.

The town lads who had been engaged in the affair keptstill, fearing they would get into trouble if they came forwardand told what they knew.

All were astonished when O’Farrel failed to recognizeHodge, for it was not known that Bart had been saved bythe hand of a friend.

It was a great relief for Hodge, who had feared the outcomeof his passionate act.

As often as possible the regular nine and the “scrub”got out for practice.

Hodge had not been given a trial on the regulars, for allof his good work on the scrub team.

“We’ll fix that, old man,” said Frank Merriwell. “Haggertyand Walbert are going to be tried in the box nexttime, while I am to pitch against the regulars. Haggerty,you know, is the little chap who came here from Williams.He pitched against Yale year before last, and held OldEli down to seven singles. Without doubt he is a goodman. Walbert is an Andover man, who may show up well,although he is rather new.”

“How are you going to fix the regulars?” asked Bart,eagerly.

“I am going to pick the scrub to suit myself.”

“How will you make up the team?”

“You and I will make the battery, and I shall putBrowning on first.”

“What?” shouted Bart, astonished. “You can’t meanit?”

“Why not?”

[Pg 101]

“Why, he is too lazy to draw his breath, to say nothingof playing ball.”

“That’s all right. He will play for me.”

“And he will be worse than a wooden man on first bag.”

“Not on your life! I know Browning. He is all right.”

“Can’t see how you can say that, Frank. His laziness issomething awful. He won’t be able to stir out of histracks to stop a hit or a wild throw.”

“Don’t believe yourself, my boy. You seem to haveforgotten that he covered first for us when we playedagainst Fort Worth.”

“No, I have not forgotten. But he was in differentcondition then. He had worked himself down during thetrip across the continent. There was some life in himthen, but now——”

“You shall see there is some life in him now. I canwake him up, if anybody can, and I’ll do it. He will doanything for me.”

“Perhaps he might if he thought it of any importance,but he will not think so about a game against the regulars.He’ll say it’s simply to give the regulars practice, and hewon’t stir up.”

“You’ll see what he will do after I talk to him. He willsurprise you, and you won’t be the only one.”

“All right; have your own way. I know you will, nomatter what I say. Who are the others?”

“Diamond on second.”

“He’s all right.”

“Rattleton on third.”

“He’s fair, but Flobert is a better man.”

“I’d rather have Rattleton, for he is another fellow whowill break his neck, if necessary, for me. I can get out ofhim all there is in him, and Flobert sulks sometimes.”

“All right. Suit yourself. Who will play short?”

[Pg 102]

“Haven’t decided on that position yet. There are twoor three to choose from.”

“Take Fales.”

“What Fales?”

“Freshman. Good player. I recommend him.”

“Well, we’ll take Fales if you say so.”

“Now, how have you fixed the outfield. Who is inright?”

“Tom Thornton.”

“Good man?”

“Pretty good. I’ve taken him for his batting. If hecould play as well all round as he can bat, he’d be on theregulars.”

“Middle?”

“Jones.”

“What, the fellow you call Dismal?”

“Same.”

“Why, he’s too sad and slow to play ball!”

“Wait till you have seen him. He can wake up, and he’llthrow almost as well as Ephraim Gallup. If he gets agood chance, he’ll surprise somebody.”

“Who’s the left fielder?”

“Joe Gamp.”

Hodge gasped.

“That beats all!” he cried. “Why, that fellow is a regularblunder-heels. He can’t play marbles!”

“Wait and see. He’ll be another surprise, or I’m mistaken.He is a slugger with a stick, and no mistake. Triedto fool him one day, and he seemed able to rap out anythingI gave him. He dug ’em out of the dirt with his bat,took ’em two feet off from the base, and reached up intothe air and drove ’em out. The pitcher who tries to foolhim will drop dead before the game is over.”

“Well,” said Bart, slowly, “you have seemed to be apretty good judge of ball players, old man, but I think you[Pg 103]are away off this time. You have named the most confoundedaggregation ever seen around here.”

“The other side will be confounded,” smiled Frank.“Wait and see, old man. All I ask of you is to do yourprettiest.”

“You may be sure I will.”

OUT OF PRACTICE.

A large crowd turned out to witness the six-inninggame between the ’varsity nine and Frank Merriwell’s“scrub” team. Yale was anxious about her ball team, forit was not showing up as well as it should, while Harvardand Princeton were said to be in prime condition.

Despite his popularity, Frank had enemies in college,and those enemies were circulating the report that his armwas “broken,” that he had a “dead wing,” and that his dayas a pitcher was past. They declared Yale was leaning ona broken reed when it depended on Merriwell to wingames.

There were stories about the new pitchers to be broughtout by Harvard and Princeton. They were feared not alittle.

All acknowledged that Yale was in serious need of afirst-class backstop. Stone or Noon might develop allright, but the uncertainty about them was wearing. Hodge,Merriwell’s candidate for the position, was sneered at.

When it was known that Merriwell would get up a“scrub” team and play the regulars, Frank’s enemies hastenedto say that the time had come when it would be seenhow easy he could be batted. They knew that, as a rule,no pitcher who feels secure of his position on the regularswill take the chance of doing himself injury by pitchinghis level best for a “scrub” team. Generally, he considersit practice enough for the regulars if he pitches fairly welland lets it go at that. Frank’s enemies thought that waswhat he would do. They knew little of his plan to makethe regulars hustle to win the game.

[Pg 105]

There was much speculation as to the exact make-upof the “scrub.”

“They say Diamond and Rattleton will play,” saidBink Stubbs, speaking to Sydney Gooch. “They are twoof Merriwell’s particular cronies, you know, but neitherone of them can play fast ball.”

“What do you care?” laughed Gooch.

“Oh, it’ll be nuts for me. I hope the boys will hammerMerriwell all over the lot.”

When the “scrub” appeared there were exclamationsof astonishment.

“Whiskers!” cried one. “Is this to be a comedy game?There’s Bruce Browning. He’ll go to sleep runningbases.”

“Doing what?” cried another. “You don’t suppose he’llrun, do you? He wouldn’t run for a doctor if a rattlesnakebit him!”

“Look!” shouted a third. “There’s Dismal Jones!Mommer! But this will be a peach of a game!”

“And there’s Joe Gamp!” gasped a fourth. “Whendid he ever play ball? Oh, my! my! my!”

“They’ve got him to coach!” laughed the first speaker.

Phil Hardy, captain of the regulars, looked Merriwell’snine over quizzically.

“Look here, old man,” he grinned, drawing Frank aside,“what sort of a job is this?”

“What?” asked Merry, blankly.

“We are out here for practice, and we want to playagainst a team that will give us some.”

“Don’t let that worry you. You are going to get all thepractice you want, captain.”

“But not with that turnout?”

“Yes.”

“Rats!”

“You’ll see.”

[Pg 106]

“What’s the use to fool! Why don’t you take the regular‘scrub’?”

“Because I have a better nine.”

Phil saw, with no little surprise, that Frank seemed tomean it.

“All right,” he said; “but we are not going to play sixinnings if this gets to be too much of a farce.”

“You may stop any time you like after the third inning,”smiled Frank.

“I know you are going to pitch against us,” said Phil;“but I don’t suppose you fancy you can play the wholegame?”

“Not at all. You will find there are others.”

“Why don’t you take somebody in the place of Browning?He will drop dead getting after a ball.”

“Don’t worry about Browning. He’s all right.”

“I know he was a good man once, but he has had hisday.”

Frank smiled confidently.

There was a little preliminary practice, as if it was tobe a regular match game. Frank got off his sweater andwarmed up in earnest, just the same as he would havedone had he been preparing to pitch against Harvard.

The “scrub” took the field first. As they went out scoresof students shouted at them sportively, and they were thebutt of ridicule.

“Where did you find ’em, Merriwell?” shouted a voice.“They are a lot of flubs!”

Frank laughed easily.

“Wait a little,” he advised, “and these flubs will giveyou apoplexy.”

He looked his men over to see that they were in properpositions, and then, as Cal Jeffers, Yale’s heavy-hittingcenter fielder, came up to the plate, he motioned for Gampto move a little farther back.

[Pg 107]

This caused some laughter, and a voice cried:

“What do you want to put him back for, Merriwell?He couldn’t catch anything, anyway.”

“Oh, he might—by accident,” returned Frank, whoseemed ready to talk to anybody. “I have known moresurprising things than that to happen.”

Stubbs nudged Sydney Gooch.

“He knows he’s going to be hammered,” said Stubbs.“See him get the fielders back.”

“I hope they will hit every one he throws!” said Gooch,maliciously, as he fingered his throat, thinking how Merriwell’sfingers had felt there once on a time.

Browning had slouched down to first as if going to hisown funeral. There was a sad and hopeless look on hisface, that made him look even more dismal than Jones.

Frank turned to look at him, and then burst out laughingheartily.

“Come, come, Bruce!” he cried. “It isn’t quite as badas that. Wake up, now, for I am going to get into gearand shoot ’em over.”

Browning said nothing, but his face did not grow awhit less dejected.

Jeffers poised his bat, and Merriwell faced him. Thenthe first ball was sent spinning toward the backstop.

Jeffers knew it was a fine thing to hit the first ballpitched, if possible, as it made a good showing for thebatter. He went at this one.

He hit it!

Crack!

Away the ball sailed, away over the head of the shortstop,away toward left field.

“I knew he would do it!” cried Bink Stubbs, in delight.“It is a homer! Oh, that will nearly break Merriwell’sheart!”

Down toward first Jeffers scooted.

[Pg 108]

It was seen immediately that, for all that Merriwell hadsent Gamp back, the ball was going far beyond the positionheld by the left fielder.

Gamp turned and ran for it, but the effort seemed awaste of energy. The spectators laughed to see the longlegs of the country boy working furiously as he raced outafter the ball.

“If he gets those feet going much faster, he won’t beable to stop for a week,” shouted somebody.

“What’s he think he’s going to do?” laughingly questionedanother.

“He’s playing chase with himself!” shouted SydneyGooch.

Jeffers reached first, and tore down toward second.Surely it was a home run. What a blow for Merriwell.

The ball was dropping now. Gamp was near it, but hecould not touch it. He was looking up, trying to locateit. He looked over his shoulder and saw the ball.

Then he made a last spurt that astonished everybody.Still the ball was passing far over his head.

Safe?

Not quite!

Gamp was tall, and he was running swiftly. With amighty leap, he went into the air after the ball, still goingin the same direction. He reached far up with both handsand——

More than a hundred spectators caught their breath.Some rubbed their eyes in amazement. Some muttered exclamationsof astonishment.

The ball had struck in Joe Gamp’s hands!

“He’s got it!”

“He’s caught it!”

“Hooray! hooray!”

A few cheered, but the most of those who witnessed thephenomenal catch were dumb with amazement.

[Pg 109]

For Gamp held the ball, having robbed Jeffers of oneof the prettiest hits ever seen on that ground.

Frank Merriwell laughed.

“Well, that’s pretty good for a lumber-heels,” he said,with satisfaction; “but I expected something of the kindfrom him.”

Cal Jeffers was disgusted when the coacher at thirdstopped him. He could not believe he was out.

“What’s the matter with you?” he angrily cried. “It’sa home run!”

“Ought to have been,” said the coach; “but that long-leggedfarmer caught it. See, he’s just throwing it in.”

“He must have picked it up,” said Jeffers.

“He did,” nodded the coach; “picked it up in the air.Finest catch I ever saw.”

“What—he made the finest catch you ever saw? Comeoff! This is a jolly!”

But Jeffers found it was no jolly, for the umpire declaredhe was out, and he walked in to the bench, railingat the luck.

Bink Stubbs was gasping for breath. It was some timebefore he could say a word, and then he faintly cried:

“Take me home to mommer! It always makes me sickto witness a frightful accident like that.”

“Of course it was an accident,” said Capt. Hardy, whowas not playing, although on hand in a suit.

“Of course nothing of the sort,” laughed Frank Merriwell.“Might just as well say it was an accident thatJeffers hit the ball, and I do not claim that.”

“We know that wasn’t an accident,” cried SydneyGooch, getting behind a knot of students as he shouted thewords.

“That’s right,” nodded Bink Stubbs, laughing as if itwas a joke; “that wasn’t an accident. Merry is easy.They’ll hammer him out of the box.”

[Pg 110]

He said this openly, but Frank knew him well enoughto understand that it was intended for a sneer. BinkStubbs seldom joked.

Frank paid not the least attention to the cries of hisenemies, but caught the ball, which was flung in to him,and took his position in the box.

IN THE GAME.

The regulars had been so dazed by Gamp’s marvelouscatch that not a man had moved toward the plate, so theumpire was forced to call:

“Batter up!”

Hal Faunce was the next man on the list. He left thebench and picked out a bat.

“I’m going to do the same trick Jeffers did, just to seeif that farmer out there in left garden can repeat his trick,”declared Faunce. “Look out for me, Merriwell.”

“That’s right,” cried a voice from the crowd of spectators;“line her out, Fauncie. Jeffers showed how easyMerriwell is to-day. Anybody can hit him.”

Frank continued to smile, but, mentally, he exclaimed:

“Think so, my fine fellow, if you like! I’ll have to seewhat I can do. I know Hal Faunce’s weakness, and I’mgoing to lay for him.”

He sent in a “coaxer” to start with, but Faunce did nottry to repeat Jeffers’ trick by lining out the first onepitched, and the umpire called a ball.

The next one was high, and the umpire called anotherball.

“Merry doesn’t dare to let him hit it,” shouted somebody.

Frank smiled, motioning for Hodge to come underthe bat.

Bart walked down and put on a mask. He had notsmiled during all the excitement. His face was unmoved,and he made a strong contrast to Frank Merriwell, wholooked as pleasant as if he were witnessing a free show.

[Pg 112]

Taking his place close under the bat, Bart signaled foran out drop.

Merry shook his head, immediately assuming a positionwhich Hodge understood to mean that he would deliver ahigh inshoot.

In order to make the others believe he was doing allthe signaling, Bart made a fake signal, which did not meananything at all.

With his greatest speed Frank sent a ball whistlingthrough the air. To Faunce it looked like a high straightone, and he could “feast on that kind.”

He struck with all his strength, but the only resistancemet by his bat was that of the air, and it was such a surprisethat Faunce was thrown off his feet.

Plunk!—the ball was held in Bart Hodge’s glove.

“One strike,” called the umpire.

“Here! here! here!” laughed Frank. “Don’t be tryingto throw yourself at the ball, Fauncie. That won’t do. Hitit with the bat.”

Faunce picked himself up, looking red and disgusted.

“Oh, I’ll hit it next time!” he savagely declared. “I’llknock the peeling off it!”

“That’s right,” nodded Frank. “Knock the stitches outof it—if you can. I don’t believe you can.”

Some one in the crowd groaned derisively.

“Hello!” said Merry, with perfect good nature. “Yourfriends are groaning for you now, Hal. They know youhave no show to get a hit. Take my advice and wait fortwo more balls. Perhaps I can’t get ’em over, and you willget a life on four.”

“Oh, you go to—Chicago!” flung back Faunce, nettled.“I’m going to hit her next time, and you want to get offthe earth if it comes your way.”

“All right, let her go.”

Bart was ready, and Merry sent another ball flying over[Pg 113]the plate. It was another high inshoot, and Faunceswung again, missing it as cleanly as before, and nearlythrowing himself down a second time.

“Two strikes,” called the umpire.

Frank laughed heartily, but Hodge was as mirthlessand stern as before.

“What is he doing with you, Faunce?” cried DannyGriswold, from the seats. “He seems to be making amonkey of you.”

“I’d make a monkey of you if I had you by the neck,you little runt!” muttered the batter, under his breath.

Frank saw that Faunce was so angry that he trembled,and he felt that it would be easy to strike the fellow out.

He was right, for he sent in a third high inshoot, andthe batter went after it just as hotly as he had gone afterthe others, missed it, and was out.

“Sorry for you, old man,” said Frank, quietly. “Don’tbelieve I can work that on you again.”

“I know you can’t!” snapped Faunce, as he walked to thebench.

“Costigan, come up and take your medicine,” laughedthe scorer.

Joe Costigan, the left fielder, who had played third theseason before, advanced to the plate. He was a stockyfellow, a reliable man, and a good hitter. It was said thathe had no weak points at the bat.

Merry gave him a high swift one, and Costigan let itpass for a ball. Then Frank made the same motion, butsent in a slop drop. Costigan tried to get under it, strucktoo quick, and missed it.

“One and one,” called Capt. Hardy. “Merry is easyfruit for you, Joe.”

“I am not so sure of that,” muttered Costigan. “I haveseen him fool too many good men to think him easy.”

Frank feared Costigan more than he had Faunce, although[Pg 114]the latter was the more brilliant hitter. Costiganwas not puffed up with too much confidence and he was assteady as a mill.

“I’d give something to strike him out,” thought Merriwell.

He tried to “tease” the batter, but Costigan would notbite, and two more balls were called.

“Now you have him in a hole, old man,” cried PhilHardy. “He’s forced to put it over.”

Frank thought swiftly just then. Which had he betterdo, put it over or try a “fooler?” That was a question ofsome moment just then. He knew well enough that Costiganwas the kind of fellow who would take four, insteadof breaking his back for a hit, and laugh as he trotteddown to first.

But there was something else to be considered. Costiganhad seen considerable of Merriwell’s pitching, and heknew Frank was at his best when forced to send them over.Merry had great control, and no one was better aware of itthan Joe Costigan. Frank decided that Costigan wouldthink that the next one was sure to be straight over andswift.

“He will try to line it out if it looks good,” decidedFrank.

Then he made a delivery that seemed to put all thespeed possible into the ball, which started as if to gostraight over the plate.

Frank had made no mistake in his reasoning. Costiganbit, but, as it was an outcurve, he did not touch the ball.

“Two strikes!”

Bart tossed the ball back to Frank.

Costigan looked disgusted, and Capt. Hardy cried:

“It would have been a ball if you had waited.”

No one knew that better than Costigan himself.

Without delay Frank sent in another. This time it was[Pg 115]an outcurve, but it was started straight at the batter.Costigan was a trifle mixed and he started back. Too latehe saw what kind of a ball it was, and weakly swung hisbat at it.

He missed.

“Three strikes—man is out,” called the umpire.

Hodge flung down his mask and sent the ball rollingdown toward the pitcher’s box, while Merriwell and his“scrub” team came in from the field.

“Who said they would bat me out of the box?” laughedMerry.

“Wait,” grinned Bink Stubbs, trying to appear pleasantand jovial. “The game has just begun.”

“That was crafty work, Merriwell,” complimentedCapt. Hardy. “I will give you the credit of that.”

“Thank you,” said Frank, pleasantly. “Jeffers gave mea shock, and that made me brace up.”

“That farmer out there on the left lawn gave all of usa shock,” said Hardy. “How did he catch that ball?”

“With his hands,” smiled Frank.

“I didn’t think he caught it with his feet, but there wasa time that it seemed as if he had just as good show tocatch it with his feet as with his hands. How did youknow he could play ball?”

“Oh, I’ve talked with him considerable, and I discoveredthat he knew all the fine points of the game. Then hetold me that he used to play on a strong country team upin New Hampshire—sort of a league team.”

“Huah!” grunted Hardy. “That would bar him fromplaying with Yale, even if he should prove fast enough.Without doubt he has taken pay for playing.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“It would make him a professional, if he had. Say, howabout that Fort Worth business? I understand you and[Pg 116]Hodge played with the team down there. Were you paidfor it?”

“Not a cent.”

Hardy looked relieved.

“I was afraid you had taken pay,” he said. “If youhad been that foolish, we would be in a scrape, for youmight be barred as an amateur, you know.”

“And that would give some of my very particular friendsgreat satisfaction,” smiled Frank. “But you need not letthat worry you at all. We played with Fort Worth forthe sport of it, and did not receive a cent for doing so.”

By this time the regulars were in the field. Ned Noonwas behind the home plate, with little Haggerty, the Williamsman, in the box.

Jones was the first batter up for Merriwell’s side. Helooked sad and heartless as he advanced to the plate.

Haggerty flung his cap on the ground by his side. Hestood with his little legs spread, chewing gum rapidly andgrinning. He was a pleasant little fellow.

Ned Noon came up under the bat at the very start. Itwas plain he was going to show what he could do.

Haggerty sent in a pretty one, and Jones stared in surprisewhen the umpire called a strike.

“Too bad!” he sadly muttered, with a shake of his head.“Didn’t know it was going over.”

Some of the spectators laughed at him.

“Look at the ball, Dismal,” cried one, “and you willmake it weep.”

Haggerty grinned and poised himself again. He madea round arm flourish, and sent in an outcurve.

Jones struck, but he could not reach the ball by a foot.

“Two strikes!”

The spectators began to laugh.

“Wait,” smiled Frank. “He may hit it all right.”

[Pg 117]

But Dismal was a trifle rattled, and he missed the thirdone, striking out.

“Oh, say, Merry!” exclaimed Capt. Hardy, who wassitting on the bench at Frank’s side; “this is going to betoo much of a farce.”

“Oh, I don’t know!” was Frank’s careless retort. “Youcan’t tell about that yet. You fellows may hold us fairlygood play, so that there will be some interest in the game.Don’t get discouraged as soon as this.”

“Come off! You know what I mean. That gang ofyours hasn’t a show against us.”

“Really! And you did not score the first time at bat!Your crust surprises me, old man.”

“We didn’t score because that jay from New Hampshirecaught a ball by accident, and you struck out the next twomen. You can’t keep that up.”

“I don’t know about that, either.”

“Say, you make me tired!” came warmly from the captain’slips, for he was aroused. “If you keep on, I’ll go inand take a hand myself.”

“Do it! It will be jolly sport to strike you out, captain.”

“Don’t get the swelled head, Merriwell! Don’t think youcan strike everybody out! That is what spoils a goodpitcher.”

“You are right, Hardy,” nodded Frank, seriously. “Thepitcher who is forever trying to strike out every batter whofaces him soon kills himself. It is the man who holds themdown to small hits who makes the success.”

Hardy nodded, cooling down somewhat.

“That is sensible talk,” he said. “I was afraid you hada bug in your nut. A fellow with a bug is N. G.”

Tom Thornton followed Jones. One strike was calledon him, and then he cracked out a hot one, which the shortstopfumbled long enough to let the batter reach first.

[Pg 118]

Then, to the surprise of all, Joe Gamp took his place onthe coaching line near first.

“I swear if he isn’t going to coach!” cried a voice.“Well, this will be a riot!”

“A-haw! a-haw! a-haw!” roared Gamp, slapping histhigh. “If this ain’t the gug-gug-gug-greatest pup-pup-pup-pup-pup-picnicI ever struck! Why, this is more funthan chasin’ a yallar cuc-cuc-caow all over a forty-acre pasturelot! A-haw! a-haw! a-haw!”

That laugh was infectious, others caught it, and thecrowd roared.

“Fun!” shouted Harry Rattleton, from a position on thecoach line over by third. “It’s more fun than bodgingdullets—I mean dodging bullets.”

Hodge was the third man to come to the bat.

Noon believed he knew Bart’s weakness, and he motionedfor a slow drop.

Haggerty faced the batter.

“Nun-nun-nun-now you’re off!” shouted Gamp to therunner. “Pup-pup-pup-play away off. He can’t cuc-cuc-catchyou in a year! Oh, what a good time! A-haw!a-haw! a-haw!”

Haggerty snapped the ball over to first, but Thorntongot back all right, and Joe Gamp roared again.

“It is a farce, isn’t it?” smiled Frank, speaking in Capt.Hardy’s ear. “My team seems to be having fun withyours, old man.”

“Oh, wait some,” advised Hardy. “You will laugh outof the other side of your mouth in a minute.”

“Just keep that little cuss tut-tut-tut-throwing, Tom,”said Gamp. “Pup-pup-pretty soon he’ll get excited andtut-tut-tut-throw it a mile.”

But Haggerty did not make another attempt to catchthe runner. He suddenly sent in a straight one for Bart,making it high.

[Pg 119]

Bart struck at it—and missed.

Frank was surprised, for Hodge, as a rule, could hithigh ones.

“Oh, he is easy,” cried Ned Noon, derisively. “We’llhave him going after sky-scrapers in a minute.”

“So that is the man you have been recommending,Merriwell,” said Capt. Hardy. “And he wastes hisstrength on a ball like that. Any boy would have knownthat was a rod too high.”

“Wait a little yet,” advised Frank. “He may be a trifleanxious just now, for he knows everybody is watchinghim. I’ll wager my life that he shows up all right directly.”

“He hasn’t done anything in the game yet.”

“He hasn’t been given a chance, has he?”

“Well, not much of a chance,” Hardy was forced toconfess.

Down by first Joe Gamp was stammering and haw-hawing,and it was plain that his talk was getting Haggerty alittle nervous. The grin had vanished from the face of thepitcher, and his jaws were working convulsively over thechew of gum. He tried Hodge on a low drop, but Bart letit pass. Then he sent in a rise, and Hodge went for it.

To the surprise of both Haggerty and Noon, Hodgehit the ball. It was a frightful crack, and away flew thesphere toward left field.

“Run!” roared the coachers, and Hodge raced down tofirst, while Thornton went flying toward second.

MERRIWELL’S NINE LEADS.

“Costigan will get it!” cried several voices, as the stockyleft fielder raced back after the ball.

“He can’t reach it!” cried others.

“Gamp ought to be out there now,” shouted somebody.

The coachers yelled and motioned for the runners tokeep right on, for it was plain that the ball was going overCostigan’s head.

Thornton dashed over second and made for third. Hewas running fast, but Hodge seemed to fly.

“Watch Hodge cover ground,” called Frank in Capt.Hardy’s ear. “How is that for running?”

Hardy did not say a word, but he was astonished, forhe did not dream Hodge could run so fast. Frank Merriwellwas a swift man on the bases, but it seemed that BartHodge was getting along quite as fast as Frank could.

Costigan strained every nerve to get under the ball, andmade a flying leap into the air for it, but it was just beyondhis reach, and he did not even touch it.

“Gamp would have caught it,” somebody declared.

While the left fielder was chasing the ball, which wentbounding along the ground, the runners were making astreak round the diamond. When Thornton passed overthird, Hodge was halfway between second and third.When Thornton crossed the plate, Hodge was close athis heels, and both men scored.

“Th-th-th-thutteration!” shouted Joe Gamp, in delight.“Ain’t this a ju-ju-jolly time! A-haw! a-haw! a-haw!”

Capt. Hardy looked disgusted. Was it possible FrankMerriwell’s remarkable “scrub” team was going to hold[Pg 121]the regular’s good play? It would be a standing joke inthe college.

“Come, Haggerty!” he cried, sharply; “you’ll have tobrace up. We’re out here for practice, and not to foolaway our time.”

Haggerty flushed, but said nothing. He had notthought of fooling, and he did not relish being called downin such a manner.

Ned Noon was the most disgusted man on the field. Beneathhis breath he muttered bitterly.

“Such beastly luck!” he muttered. “Think of Hodgegetting a home run the first time up! It is frightful! Imust do something to attract attention to me.”

He wondered what he could do, but resolved to watchhis opportunity. Unfortunately for Noon, Haggerty wasa trifle rattled, and that made him wild.

Fales was the next batter up. Haggerty was so wildthat Fales might have obtained four balls, but he struckat two poor ones. Then, with the score standing twostrikes and three balls, Fales struck again at an inshootand missed.

Right there was where Noon’s hard luck came in, forHaggerty had crossed signals with him. Noon had expectedan outdrop, but it was a high inshoot. Ned madea desperate attempt to stop it, but simply got his hands onit, and it went caroming off to one side, while Fales ranfor first and made the bag all right.

“Look here, Noon,” came sharply from Capt. Hardy’slips, when Ned had recovered the ball and thrown it in,“you must get a brace on. What are you under the batfor?”

“It wasn’t my fault,” declared Ned. “Haggerty crossedsigns with me.”

That made Capt. Hardy angry with Haggerty, and hecalled him in to the bench, sending Walbert out.

[Pg 122]

Walbert had not warmed up, and what he had seenmade him feel a trifle nervous. This was not like a practicegame. It seemed to be a game for blood.

The spectators realized that the fate of more than oneplayer depended on their work in that game. Capt. Hardywas merciless, and he would not hesitate to lop off thehead of any man he considered weak. He had no favorites,and he was fearless in the way he handled the team.His power was great, as he was manager, as well as captain.

Rattleton followed Fales. He popped up an easy oneto shortstop who got under it and dropped it purposely,trying to draw Fales off first to make a double. But Falesknew that trick, and he hugged the bag.

Rattleton was out.

Diamond came next. He hit a hot one straight at Walling,the third baseman, and it was gathered in, putting theside out.

But at the end of the first inning, the score stood 2 to 0in favor of the “scrubs.”

“Now, I do hope they’ll get on to Merriwell,” mutteredSydney Gooch, who was looking very serious. “This isnot the kind of fun I came out to see.”

“Same here,” admitted Bink Stubbs. “But it can’t continue.Merriwell’s gang has had a streak.”

The first man up for the regulars got a fine safe hit.

Both Gooch and Stubbs brightened.

“Ah! what did I tell you!” said Harris. “I knew itwould come. Now, if the others will keep it up.”

He did not know that Frank had given the batter agood one, hoping he would get a single. Frank wantedHodge to have a chance to show his throwing.

Merry was sure the runner would be sent down to secondfor a steal if he was given a show. He did not pretendto hold the fellow close to the bag, believing it a good plan[Pg 123]to let him get a start, for it would make Bart’s throwingshow up all the better if the man should be caught.

Diamond knew what was coming, for he understood thatMerry was working to show Bart up, and he hugged closeto second.

As Merry had anticipated, the batter made a false swingwhen the ball was pitched, hoping to bother Bart, whilethe runner scooted for second.

Hodge gathered in the ball, and then, without stirringfrom his tracks, sent it shooting down toward second likea bullet.

It was a low throw, and it seemed that it must strikethe ground before it got to second; but there was forcebehind that ball, and it did not fall.

“Slide! slide!” yelled the coachers.

The runner slid.

Diamond came in just right to take the ball about twofeet from the ground, and then he “nailed” it on to theback of the sliding base-runner, catching him at least twofeet from the bag.

“Man is out,” announced the umpire.

Frank laughed, and the spectators applauded.

“Good boy, Hodge!” cried Danny Griswold, to the surpriseof Frank. “That was a beautiful throw.”

“Oh, those things will happen now and then,” sneeredNed Noon. “He might throw wild next time.”

This did not come with good grace from Ned’s lips, ashe and Bart were rivals, but he was so overflowing withspleen that he could not hold it back.

“It was a good throw,” nodded Capt. Hardy. “I didn’tthink he had a chance to catch the man after the startMerriwell gave him. If Hodge can keep up the work hehas been doing——”

He did not finish, but there was a deep significance inthe hiatus.

[Pg 124]

The next batter obtained a single, and again a man wasgiven a chance to play off first by Merriwell, who seemedremarkably careless.

Down he went for second on the first pitched ball.

“He’ll make it?”

“Hodge can’t stop him!”

“He’s a runner!”

“See him scoot!”

“He’s fairly flying.”

Hodge did not seem to get excited in the least, but hemade a quick, sharp throw for second.

Again Diamond came in and took it on the run. Againthe runner slid. Again Jack bored the ball into his back.And again——

“Man is out!” cried the umpire.

“Hodge is all right!” said several voices. “He is acorker to throw!”

Bart was arousing admiration by his cool, steady work.Ned Noon saw this, and ground his teeth in fury.

It was Noon’s turn to come to bat. He advanced, resolvedto do something or drop dead in the attempt.

A gleam entered Frank Merriwell’s eyes. He gatheredhimself. Two men had been allowed to hit; but if NedNoon got a hit he would earn it. Then Merriwell sentthem over with all kinds of twists and curves. Ned wasfooled. He fanned three times, flung his bat to the groundand uttered a curse.

The regulars had failed to score in their half of the secondinning.

A GOOD FINISH.

Walbert did his prettiest. He struck out one of the“scrub,” and then the bases were filled. It looked likeseveral more scores for Merriwell’s side.

Walbert set his teeth and pitched. He realized that hewas working for a place on the ’varsity nine, and neverhad he done better. He struck out another man. Thenthe next batter sent a long one straight out to the centerfielder, who gathered it in and the inning ended.

The spectators were greatly interested, for it was a hotgame, something they had not expected. They began tochaff the regulars. Some of them said Merriwell’s teamwas the right one to represent Yale on the diamond thatseason.

Browning had not been given much work, but, to hisown surprise, he was wide awake. The excitement of thegame had aroused him from his lethargy.

Up to the close of the fourth inning the score stood 2 to0 in favor of the “scrub.” Merriwell’s men did not seemable to obtain another score, although they came near itseveral times.

In the fourth inning, aided by a hit, a fumble and adropped ball, the regulars ran in one score. Then Merriwellput on steam, and shut them off.

The fifth inning proved a whitewash for both sides, andthe sixth began with the game standing 2 to 1 in favor ofMerriwell.

The regulars were first to bat, and Capt. Hardy had atalk to them. He told them they must beat the “scrub.”He told them it would be a disgrace to be beaten by the[Pg 126]“scrub.” He told them they were playing for somethingmore than the game, and they understood him. Severalof them were playing for positions on the nine.

Merriwell resolved to do his best to keep the regularsfrom making another score. He was laughing when hewent into the box, but there was a serious purpose in hisheart.

Gooch and Stubbs were two very disgusted fellows.

“This isn’t what we came out to see,” muttered theformer.

“Not much!” said Stubbs. “Why, the ’varsity nine can’tplay marbles! Harvard and Princeton will walk all over’em. I’ll bet on it.”

“Is it always luck?” asked Gooch, hesitatingly.

“Of course it is!” snarled Stubbs.

The last inning began, and the two haters of Merriwellwatched it in despair.

The first man up was out on an easy one to Rattleton,who lined it across to Browning. Bruce gathered it in,smothering it in his glove and yawning at the same time.

The next man got a hit. He could not steal second, forhe did not dare try, as Hodge had caught every man whotried it. But the following man hit the ball to Fales, whofumbled it, and then threw wild to first.

Over second scooted the runner, and he reached thirdahead of the ball.

That placed a man on second and one on third.

Stubbs and Gooch brightened up.

“Here’s where they win the game!” cried the former.

Frank continued to smile. He did not seem at allanxious.

The next batter obtained two balls and then had a strikecalled on him. He hit the next one and once more it shotstraight at Fales.

[Pg 127]

The man on third took a desperate chance and scootedfor home.

Fales saw the runner going, and he was so anxious tostop that score that he fumbled again. He got the ball atlast and threw home, but it was a bit too late, for the manhad scored.

The game was tied.

Then Frank was in earnest, and the way he pitched wasa surprise to the two men who faced him. They did noteven foul the ball, and both struck out.

The sixth inning closed with the score a tie. Frank wasanxious to play another inning, but Capt. Hardy seemedsatisfied.

He said such practice was too much like business, andthe game was over.

But the “scrub” was hilarious over the result. It wasalmost equal to beating.

Some time after the game Frank and Capt. Hardy wereseen talking together on the campus.

Ned Noon was strolling along when he saw them. Fromthe fence Bink Stubbs called to him:

“What do you think?”

“I don’t think,” returned Ned, sourly. “It’s too muchtrouble.”

“See those chaps over there?” and Bink jerked histhumb toward Frank and Phil.

“Yes.”

“Merriwell is cooking your goose.”

“I suppose so. Well, let him cook it. I’ll get back athim some time!”

“That’s the talk!” said Stubbs, approvingly. “I hopeyou’ll do it, too!”

Noon sauntered on.

That evening Hodge came hurrying into Merriwell’sroom, a look of satisfaction on his face.

[Pg 128]

“Old man,” he cried, with unusual enthusiasm, “I wantto thank you! You have worked it!”

“Worked what?”

“Got me on for a trial.”

“On the nine?”

“Yes, Capt. Hardy told me just now that I am to havea trial in the game against Williams next Saturday.”

Frank sprang to his feet.

“Congratulations, old chum!” he cried, extending hishand. “I wanted you behind the bat, and, if you are givena fair show, you will stay there. We have worked togetherbefore, and we’ll try it again for the sake of oldYale—dear old Yale!”

Bart clasped the extended hand. It was a warm clasp,the clasp of true friendship.

On Saturday the ball game came off. There was a tremendouscrowd on hand to witness the game and not alittle betting on the result.

At first matters seemed to go against Yale and morethan one groan of dismay went up.

Capt. Hardy was very anxious to win and made such adesperate two-base run in the sixth inning that he droppeddown utterly exhausted, much to his friends’ surprise.

But after that occurrence the Yale team braced up.Frank never worked better and Hodge did equally well,and at the conclusion the score stood 4 to 5 in favor ofOld Eli.

“We won, but it was close,” said Bruce Browning.

And all realized that this was true—the score was altogethertoo close for comfort—considering the heavy gamesstill to be played.

MORE BASEBALL TALK.

“Poor old Yale!” said Ben Halliday, mournfully.

“Poor old Yale!” echoed Dismal Jones, with somethinglike a sob.

“Oh, what’s the use of squealing before we knowwhether we are hurt or not?” cried Puss Parker. “Old Elihas a way of coming out on top at the last moment.”

“It’s a mighty slim show she has now,” said Pink Pooler,and it almost seemed that there was something like satisfactionin his voice. “If she can’t do better than beat littleWilliams by one score, what can she do against Princeton?Nat Finch is one of the finest amateur pitchers inthis country, and he will make monkeys of Yale’s ordinarybatters, while our best men will stand a poor show againsthim.”

“How did Princeton get hold of such a fellow?” askedHalliday.

“I don’t know, but I am willing to bet something thathis tuition does not cost him anything.”

“If we could prove that we could end his career as apitcher in the college league,” said Halliday.

“But it can’t be proved,” said Pooler, quickly, “and soPrinceton has us by the neck.”

“I wouldn’t bet that way if I could get odds,” gruntedBruce Browning, as he came loafing up to the fence onthe Yale campus, where the little knot of lads were holdingthe earnest discussion. “Princeton is not so many, andFinch is not the only shirt in the laundry. He can bedone up.”

[Pg 130]

“He’ll never be done up by Yale,” declared Pooler, lightinga cigarette.

“Look here, man!” cried Ben Halliday, turning sharplyon Pink, “what is the matter with you? You talk as ifanxious for Princeton to beat Yale.”

“That’s so,” nodded Jones, giving Pooler a sour look.

“You ought to know better than that,” said Pink, protestingly;“but I have got eyes, and I do know somethingabout baseball. When Yale has a struggle to beat littleWilliams in a practice game, she is not going to standmuch of a show in the college league.”

Browning grunted.

“Huah! Yale has a way of starting out weak at thebeginning of the season and making a rattling finish. Youforget that, Pooler.”

“No, but that does not happen every time.”

“Pretty near it.”

“There was a time, not so many moons agone,” beganDismal Jones, in his queer way, “when it was thought thatYale’s one weak point was behind the bat.”

“That’s been settled,” said Browning.

“Oh, I don’t know,” grinned Pooler.

“What’s the matter with Hodge?” quickly asked Halliday.

“It was his pretty work that saved the game with Williams,”declared Parker.

“That’s once,” said Pooler, meaningly.

“Merriwell says he can do it right along.”

“Merriwell says many things.”

“And you can bet your life that what he says goes!”came with unusual warmth from Browning. “I’ve seenHodge work before, and he’s all right.”

“They say he has a nasty temper,” said Pink. “Sometimeshe gets mad and sulks.”

“Merriwell can handle him any time.”

[Pg 131]

“It’s always Merriwell, Merriwell, Merriwell!” sneeredPooler. “He is a good man, but most of the fellows seemto think he’s a phenom. It makes me tired!”

“He has done some phenomenal work,” said Parker.“Take the football game with——”

“Oh, that’s ancient history! You fellows don’t seem toget over that football game.”

“He did some fine twirling last season.”

“And spoiled his arm in the last hard game he pitched.”

“It didn’t look that way when he pitched for the ‘scrub’against the regulars, and made a draw game of it. Itstruck me that he was in fine trim.”

“He worked for all there was in him that day,” declaredPooler, “and I have it straight that he has been tendinghis arm since then as if it were a sick baby. He does itup in arnica and witch hazel, and keeps it bandaged allthe time. He wasn’t in condition to go in and save theWilliams game.”

“He didn’t have to,” grunted Browning.

“He was needed badly enough. It was Hodge’s three-baggerin the ninth that brought in two scores when twomen were out, and saved the game. I claim that hit wasan accident. That being the case, it was an accident thatbeat Williams. If Merriwell could have gone in and savedthe game, why didn’t they put him in?”

“I’ll tell you why,” said Parker. “They were saving himand they wanted to test the stuff in Haggerty and Walbert.”

“You know Haggerty said he knew the weak points ofalmost all the Williams men,” said Halliday. “That waswhy he was kept in so long.”

“Well, Williams didn’t do a thing to Mr. Haggerty!”grinned Pink. “He was hammered beautifully, and theyused Walbert fully as bad. Anyone with sense will saythose two men are no good, and surely it isn’t sense to[Pg 132]think Merriwell can pitch every game for Yale and giveus a winning team.”

“It doesn’t strike me you know much about pitchers andpitching,” yawned Browning. “If you did, you would notbe in such a hurry to judge Haggerty and Walbert bytheir first game. The best pitchers have streaks when anybodycan hit them, and those streaks come when they areleast expected. There is nothing so unreliable as a first-classbaseball pitcher. He may win a dozen hard games,and then, for no apparent reason, lose one that everybodyconsiders dead easy.”

Pooler knew this was true, but he felt the sting of thebig fellow’s slowly drawled words, and he snapped:

“I’ll guarantee that I know as much about baseball asyou do. You did play on the ‘scrub’ with Merriwell, butyou didn’t have any work. If you had—well, you are notthe most wide-awake man in college.”

Pooler felt that he was safe in making this talk, forBrowning would not exert himself sufficiently to resentit by personal violence.

Beyond a grunt, Bruce did not seem to resent it at all.

Parker hastened to say something.

“I don’t think there is any reason why we should befrightened because Princeton put up a good game againstthe New Yorks to start off with, while we made a poorshowing against Williams. That doesn’t settle it.”

“Last year New York beat the packing out of us atthe Polo Grounds,” said Halliday, “but we won the collegechampionship just the same.”

“That only goes to show how much stronger Princetonis than we are.”

“It goes to show that you can’t tell what Yale will doby the way she starts off.”

“I’ll tell you this,” said Bruce; “Hodge works much betterwith Merriwell in the box than with anybody else.[Pg 133]Everybody says he played great ball last Saturday. Hewill play much better next Saturday, for Merriwell willpitch then.”

“The battery isn’t the whole nine,” said Pooler. “Hodgeand Merriwell can’t do the batting, base-running and fieldingfor all the others.”

Joe Gamp came hurrying toward the little knot. He wasexcited and breathless.

“I say, bub-bub-boys,” he stammered, “have you heardthe latest nun-nun-nun-nun-nun——”

“Whistle, Joe!” cried Halliday and Parker, together.

The excited lad began again:

“I say, bub-bub-boys, have you heard the latest nun-nun-nun-nun—Isay, bub-bub-boys, have you heard thelul-lul-lul-lul——I say, bub-bub-bub-bub——I sus-sus-sus-sus-sus——”

“Whistle quick, Joe,” cried Halliday. “You are goingbackward, and you won’t be able to start at all in a minute.”

Joe began the third time:

“I sus-sus-sus-sus”—whistle—“say boys, have youheard the latest nun-nun-nun-nun”—whistle—“the latestnews?”

“We’re not liable to hear it if we wait for him to tellit,” muttered Pooler, scornfully.

“What is the latest news?” asked Parker.

“Phil Hardy, cuc-cuc-cuc-captain of the ’vuv-’vuv-’varsitynine——”

“What about him?” asked several.

“Cuc-cuc-cuc-cuc”—whistle—“can’t pup-pup-pup-playany more this sus-sus-sus-sus”—whistle—“this season!”shouted Gamp.

Cries of astonishment broke from the boys. Browningseemed to awaken from the trance that was on him, and hegrasped Gamp by the arm, taking hold so strongly thatJoe cringed.

[Pg 134]

“What’s that you say?” demanded the big fellow,fiercely.

“Phil Hardy can’t play any more this season?” questionedParker.

“Did you say that?” demanded Halliday.

Gamp nodded.

“Dud-dud-dud-doctor said so,” he declared.

“Whew!” whistled Pooler. “That knocks the backboneout of the ’varsity nine.”

No one paid any attention to him, but Browninggrowled at Gamp.

“How do you know this? Are you sure it’s straight?”

“Sus-sus-Sile Blossom told me, and he is Hardy’s ch-ch-chum.”

“Then it is straight, for Uncle Blossom never jokes,”said Bruce, in deep dismay.

There was general consternation among the fellowsgathered there at the fence.

“Poor old Yale!” exclaimed Halliday, for the secondtime.

“Poor old Yale!” again echoed Dismal Jones.

“Now,” said Pooler, “it is a sure thing that Yale doesnot stand a show in baseball this season.”

Bruce Browning turned savagely upon Pink—so savagelythat Pooler was startled.

“You make me sick!” growled the big fellow. “You’realways croaking! You have been stuck good and hardbetting against Yale, and I hope you’ll be stuck again ifyou bet against her this year!”

“That’s all right,” said Pooler, sullenly. “I have aright to my convictions. I’d like to see Yale win as wellas anybody, but my good judgment tells me she can’twin.”

“Your good judgment is not worth a hoot! It has told[Pg 135]you she could not win before, but she has won just thesame.”

“Perhaps it’s not so bad,” said Parker. “Why, Hardyis in the pink of condition. Why should any doctor forbidhis playing?”

“He’s been having queer spells lately whenever he’sgot excited and worked hard,” said Halliday. “In theWilliams game, you know, he fell limp as a rag in Jeffers’arms after making a hot run for two bases. It didn’tseem that he’d be able to get his breath again. Theyfanned him and turned water on him till they came neardrowning him.”

“That was the first time I ever saw anything out ofthe way with the fellow.”

“What is the matter with him, anyway?” asked Pooler.“Why has the doctor ordered him not to play?”

“Heart tut-tut-trouble,” explained Gamp. “He’s liableto drop dead some tut-tut-time when he exerts himselftoo much.”

The boys looked at each other in doleful silence. Thenews had cast a deep gloom over them.

“Who’ll be captain now?” said Halliday. “You oughtto know, Parker.”

“How should I know?” asked Puss. “I don’t have anythingto do with the management of the team. It’s all Ican do to play first base.”

“Well, who do you think stands the best chance?”

“Frank Merriwell.”

Pooler started and scowled.

“I hope they won’t be fools enough to put him in!” hesaid. “His head is swelled enough now. He’ll feel sobig that he won’t be worth anything if he is made captain.”

“Oh, how can you say that!” exclaimed Sidney Gooch,[Pg 136]who had joined the crowd. “Mr. Merriwell is such asplendid fellow!”

Sidney was a hypocrite. No one in college hatedFrank more than Gooch, but he pretended to admireMerry greatly. In his sneaking way he lost no opportunityto injure Frank, but he never came out openly likean honorable foe.

Of the two fellows, Pink Pooler was far the moremanly, but that was not saying much for him.

Bruce Browning was angry. He grasped Pooler bythe collar and shook him till his teeth rattled together.

“You envious whelp!” roared the big fellow. “Youknow Frank Merriwell is not troubled with the swelledhead. What you deserve is a punch in the jaw, but I’dbe ashamed if I gave it to you, so you get off without it.”

Then he gave Pooler a fling that sent the fellow staggering.

All were astounded by this display of energy on Browning’spart, for it was a rare thing that anything couldarouse him.

But Bruce was loyal to Frank Merriwell. He had beenFrank’s foe when Merry first came to Yale, but, when hewas dropped a class and found himself received in amanly manner by Merriwell, he suddenly changed from afoe to a stanch friend.

No one but Frank seemed able to handle the big, lazyfellow, but Merriwell could do anything with Bruce. Heeven succeeded in inducing him to play first base on the“scrub” ball team, and Browning had not made a singleerror.

Pooler ground his teeth together and gave Browning afierce look, but he let it go at that, for he knew the bigfellow was strong as a giant.

“Merriwell will make a good captain,” said Ben Halliday.“He has a knack of getting more out of a lot of[Pg 137]fellows than anybody I know. If they put him in Hardy’splace, the nine will not suffer.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me a bit if you were right,”purred Sidney Gooch.

“I am not going to give up that Hardy can’t play atall till I hear it from his lips,” said Parker.

“You may as well give it up,” declared a voice, andBart Hodge joined the group. “It is straight goods, fellows.I’ve just had a talk with Capt. Hardy.”

They turned eagerly to the dark-faced, proud-lookinglad, and plied him with questions. All he could tell themwas substantially the same as they had learned fromGamp. Capt. Hardy had been examined by competentphysicians, and he had been ordered to drop baseball andrefrain from all kinds of violent exertion.

“It’s a shame!” groaned Jones. “Just at this time Yalecan’t afford to lose a single good man.”

“Don’t you worry a bit,” said Hodge. “If Merriwell ismade captain of the team, Yale will not lose anything. Iknow Phil Hardy is a dandy, but Frank Merriwell isanother.”

Somebody laughed scornfully and shortly.

Hodge looked round quickly, his face flushing crimson.

“Laugh!” he exclaimed. “I know what I am talkingabout! I have traveled with Frank Merriwell, and he isall right.”

“From his head up,” said a voice.

“Oh, it’s you, is it, Pooler. Well, you are the one I’dexpect would make such a remark.”

Pooler strode forward, scowling blackly.

“Why, you miserable fool!” he snarled; “do you daretalk to me like that? I’ll—I’ll——”

Hodge looked Pink straight in the eyes.

“I am going to tell you now that I do not think butlittle of you, Mr. Pooler,” he said. “You are always[Pg 138]croaking. Now you are howling about Yale’s ball team.I’m willing to bet fifty dollars that Yale beats Princetonnext Saturday, and I’ll bet fifty more she wins the collegechampionship.”

Pooler was digging down into his pockets.

“Money talks!” he cried. “It’s a shame to rob a fool,but I can’t stand everything. Here is my money. I’llput it in the hands of Gooch.”

“Put it in Halliday’s hands and I will cover it,” saidHodge, hotly.

“All right. I’m not fussy. Halliday suits me.”

The money was staked and covered.

THE DOUBLE SHOOT.

“You have speed to burn, Merry,” cried Bart Hodge,as he rounded up on catching a ball that had come flyinglike a bullet from Frank’s hand. “There must be powderbehind those whistlers.”

Frank laughed. His hat, coat and vest were off, andhe was perspiring freely. Together with Bart, he wasputting in a little practice. Frank was in the pink ofcondition. His eyes were clear and bright, his complexionalmost girlish in its pink-and-white, while his legs, arms,muscles, all were firm and hard. The flesh of his arm,from which the sleeve was rolled back, was white asmarble.

“Some of the fellows who have been croaking aboutyour ‘dead wing’ will drop dead when they see you shoot’em over,” said Hodge, his face glowing with enthusiasmand earnestness.

“There are always croakers, Bart,” said Frank, indifferently.“A fellow is a fool if he permits them to botherhim.”

“They make me thundering mad.”

“Mustn’t notice them.”

“Can’t help it.”

“Can if you try.”

“No. I am not built like you.”

“It all comes of practice. If you keep trying, in a shorttime you get so you do not notice it at all. Get on to thistwist, old man.”

Then Frank made a jumping motion with his body, but[Pg 140]held his feet on the ground, and sent in a ball that madeBart blink and gasp.

“Talk about chain-lightning!” cried Hodge. “Why,that one was a regular dodger! How’d you do it, Frank?or did my eyes fool me?”

Merriwell laughed heartily over Bart’s surprise.

“I call that my double shoot,” he explained. “I’ll give itto you again.”

Bart tossed back the ball, and Frank carefully woundhis fingers round it; then made the jumping motion,sending it whizzing through the air again.

This time Hodge dodged and let it go past.

“Scissors!” he cried. “That fooled me. I thought itwas going the other way. It took a queer shoot on thelast end.”

Again Frank laughed.

“That was the double curve the other way,” he said.

Hodge trotted back to the netting and got the ball. Ashe came down with it, he said:

“I’d like to know when you got onto that quirk. I’veheard of ‘zigzag curve pitching,’ but I never took anystock in it. I don’t see how it is possible to give a balltwo motions, so it will curve in and then turn and curveout without stopping.”

“I discovered the trick by accident,” confessed Frank.“It’s a hard one, and no man can use it much, for it willknock the stuffing out of his wrist if he does. You knowa drop-ball pitcher soon uses himself up. Well, this isworse on a fellow than pitching the drop.”

“What does it do?”

“Makes the back of the wrist lame, right here,” andFrank touched the spot. “There is a snap to it that doesthe job. The motion of the ball when it leaves the fingersgives it one curve, and the other curve is given to it bythe snap of the wrist.”

[Pg 141]

“Say, Merry.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t tell anybody about this.”

“Don’t worry.”

“Because if you do, they won’t believe it. There’s notone old ball player in a hundred who will believe anypitcher can make a ball curve in and out withoutstopping. There is such a thing as an outdrop, but adouble-shoot—Great Scott! it will be the sensation of theseason!”

“I don’t propose to use it much.”

“I should say not!”

“It will be a great thing on some occasions.”

“You bet! Why, it’ll paralyze a batter! He’ll thinkhe’s got ’em.”

Frank pitched two more of those queer curves, andthen stopped, saying he did not dare to follow it up, forfear of hurting his wrist.

“Look here, Merry,” cried Bart; “you’ll have to let meknow when you are going to do that, or I’ll have a passedball sure. And I want to know what the final curve willbe, too. Can you pitch a rise and a drop the same asyou do this in and out?”

Frank shook his head.

“I have tried all sorts of ways, but I can’t pitch a ballthat will have a double motion up and down. Some fellowmay strike it some time, but I am inclined to think itan impossibility.”

“Did you ever see a pitcher who could pitch a double-shootbefore you?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Billy Mains.”

[Pg 142]

“Who’s Billy Mains?”

“He’s a tall, angular Yankee from somewhere down inMaine—Windham is the town, I believe.”

“Where did you see him?”

“With the Bostons.”

“I don’t remember him.”

“He was not given a fair trial. He pitched the lastthree innings of the opening game at Boston betweenBoston and Baltimore last season. The first Baltimorebatter to face Mains thought he had the jim-jams, sure,for Mains started an outshoot, and, while the batterstood with his stick poised, expecting the ball would passtwo feet beyond the plate, the sphere curved in round hisneck and glanced off the end of his bat. The fellow wasso astonished he dropped his bat and fell down himselftrying to get out of the way after the ball had passed.He may have thought from the curves it had that it mightturn round and come back his way. I was sitting in thegrand-stand directly behind the catcher, so I plainly sawthe double curve of the ball. A hundred others saw it,and half of them uttered cries of astonishment. One oldman said he had been following baseball for seventeenyears, but never had he seen anything like that before.Right then I resolved to find out how to make that curve,and I have been working at it ever since. One day, when Iwasn’t thinking of it, I happened to throw an out witha peculiar snap of my wrist. I saw it take the doublecurve, and I was lucky enough to remember just how Idid it. After that I kept at it till I was sure of throwingit when I wanted to, but I tried it so much I came nearknocking my wrist out.”

“That’s it!” cried Bart. “That’s how the story startedthat you had a ‘dead wing.’ The fellows knew you hadlamed your arm, but they did not see how you did it withthe amount of throwing you did.”

[Pg 143]

“The wonder to me now is that I did not lame it more.I was working at it altogether too much.”

“This Mains, what became of him?”

“Oh, he has been in the New England League and theEastern League since his trial with Boston.”

“Do you consider him a good man?”

“He has one bad fault.”

“What’s that?”

“He’s wilder than a hawk at times, and he is liable toweaken or go to pieces when the batters fall on him. Butfor that, he is fast enough for the National League. Iconsider him a better man than lots of pitchers in theNational League, and he will get there some day, too.”

“I should think his double-shoot would land him inthe big league.”

“I don’t believe he can control it, and, after he usesit, he seems to get wild right away. It knocks him out.”

“Isn’t it going to do that with you, Merry?”

“Can’t tell,” confessed Frank. “If it does, I won’tuse it except on a pinch at the very last end of a gamewhen everything depends on striking out a good batter.It will be valuable if I don’t use it more than three orfour times for the season.”

Hodge nodded.

“It might save the championship. Nobody can tell.What do you know about Nat Finch, the new Princetonman?”

“Nothing, save what I have heard in the way of gossipand what I have read in the papers.”

“Everybody seems to think he’s a terror.”

“He must be a good man, or he would not have sucha reputation. But he will have his bad days, like therest of us.”

“We can’t expect to win the pennant on his bad days.”

[Pg 144]

“Not much. Harvard is not making such a blow asPrinceton, but she will put a strong team in the field.”

“What do you know about Harvard?”

“I know she will be in it with both feet. To-day I considerHarvard fully as dangerous as Princeton.”

“She is not generally considered so.”

“I know it, but Harvard is coming in these days. I’lltell you something. If Yale does not win the pennant thisyear, Harvard will.”

Hodge was surprised, and he showed it; for, like others,he had regarded Princeton as Yale’s most dangerousrival. Never before had he heard Frank so freely expressan opinion as to the situation.

Bart knew Frank well enough to feel confidence inhis judgment on baseball.

“Where is Harvard’s strong point?” he asked.

“The whole team,” declared Frank. “They are notmaking a great howl over one pitcher, for they have twogood men left over from last season, besides any newmen that may develop. Reports from Cambridge saythey are putting in plenty of practice. They are gettingin team work, and team work pays. A nine of brilliantindividual players will often be slaughtered by an inferiornine simply because the latter is well up in team work.Yale should have more practice in team work, I think.”

“Perhaps you’ll have a chance to take charge of herpractice. You know Phil Hardy is out of it, and——”

“There’s very little chance for me,” said Frank, quietly.

“Why not?”

“Because the only way I would accept the position is oncertain conditions, and the committee will never agree tothose conditions.”

RATTLETON’S WARNING.

Hodge felt no little curiosity to know what those conditionswere, but, as Merriwell did not show an inclinationto state them, he refrained from asking questions.

Bart had begun to understand Frank very well, and hecould tell when Merry wished to talk and when he choseto be silent. With rare good judgment, Hodge seldomattempted to induce Frank to talk when he showed adisposition to be reticent.

Merriwell rolled down his sleeve and picked up his coat.He felt that he had practiced quite enough for the time.

Just then Harry Rattleton entered the park and approachedhurriedly, his face betraying no small amountof excitement.

“I want to Merry you, see—I mean I want to see you,Merry,” he spluttered.

“All right,” smiled Frank. “Here I am. Take a goodlook at me.”

“Want to tell you something.”

“I will listen.”

Harry cast a quick glance at Bart.

“Want to tell it to you privately,” he said.

Bart turned and strolled away, pulling on his coat.

“Fire away,” said Frank. “No one will hear you.”

Rattleton seemed troubled about beginning. He stammeredsome, and then burst forth:

“Don’t you do it, Merry—don’t you do it! It’s a put upjob! Don’t you do it!”

“If you’ll tell me what it is,” smiled Frank, “I may beable to tell you if there is any danger that I will do it.”

[Pg 146]

“They’re going to try to run you in.”

“How run me in? Arrest me?”

“No, no! Run you in captain of the nine.”

“Oh, is that what you are driving at?”

“Yes. I am dead on to the grooked came—I mean thecrooked game!”

Harry was so excited that he twisted himself badly.

“What is the crooked game?” asked Frank. “You aretalking in enigmas.”

“It’s a plot!”

“What kind of a plot?”

“A plot to put you in disgrace.”

“How?”

“Everybody most seems to think the team we have nowstands no show of winning the pennant.”

“Well?”

“That’s why they want to run you in captain.”

“Think so?”

“Know so. I’m willing to bet Phil Hardy paid thatdoctor something to forbid him from playing. Hardy isa sharp one. He saw Yale stood no show, and he wassick. He wanted to get out, and he took that way ofcrawling.”

Frank shook his head.

“I don’t want to think that of Hardy,” he soberly said.“I don’t want to think any man that much a sneak. No,Rattles, you are dead wrong about Phil.”

“I’m red dight—I mean dead right!” excitedly declaredHarry. “You have too much confidence in humannature. You never will think a man crooked till it isproven for you, and then you don’t like to believe it.”

“What’s the use?” said Frank, quietly. “I dislike tohave my confidence in human nature shattered—I refuseto have it shattered. I know there is more good than badin the world. The person who is forever looking for the[Pg 147]bad is the one who never sees the good, and he has noone but himself to blame. I am no pessimist.”

“But you are a thundering fool sometimes!” blurtedRattleton. “I don’t care a continental if you punch myhead for saying so, but you are a fool sometimes!”

Instead of showing anger at these plain words, Frankbeamed in a sunny manner, his red lips parting to showhis gleaming white teeth.

“You are jolly original to-day, old man,” he said,merrily. “You surprise me.”

“Oh, say!” snapped Harry. “There isn’t anything tolaugh about. I am in earnest. Now, look here, Frank, Iwant to tell you something. By chance I heard some ofyour particular admirers talking about you.”

“Who were they?”

“Gordan, Gooch, Pooler, Paulding and Marline.”

“Marline’s all right.”

“I should think so!” burst forth Harry. “He’s thefellow who was going to kill you!”

“In a fair duel.”

“Oh, he’s a bloodthirsty dog!”

“He has seemed friendly enough since our encounter.”

“Hasn’t dared be any other way. He was in the gang,and he doesn’t like you any too much. He thinks youare holding your head too high, and he’d like to see youtaken down several pegs.”

“Well, what were they saying?”

“Saying Hardy got out because he saw Yale did nothave a show this season. Saying that you would be madecaptain, and that you’d get all the blame for Yale’s hardluck. They laughed over it like fiends. Oh, they werehaving a jolly time to think how it would pull you down.”

Frank’s lips closed and were pressed together. A hard,resolute look settled on his face, and still he smiled. Therewas confidence in that smile, and there was scorn in it.

[Pg 148]

“My enemies have thought the same thing about manythings I have taken part in,” he said, quietly.

“But this is different,” Rattleton declared. “I tell youthis is a plot, and I believe Phil Hardy is in it. He knewthey would put you in captain, and that is why he got out.There’s no more trouble with his heart than there is withmine.”

“He has the doctor’s certified statement.”

“That’s nothing. Bet he had to pay for it.”

Still Frank refused to believe that. He had knownHardy but a short time, but he believed the fellow on thelevel. Phil had played fast ball on the team the seasonbefore, although he had not been friendly with Merriwell,who was one of the regular pitchers. He had been chosento captain the nine, as well as manage it, and, with fewexceptions, the choice was considered a good one. It didnot seem possible now that because Yale had not turnedout as strong a team as usual, Hardy had weakened andresorted to a trick to get out of his position of responsibility.

“You must remember, Rattles,” said Frank, “that hehad a bad spell in the game last Saturday.”

“Made it.”

“Then he is a corking actor.”

“He didn’t fool me.”

Still Frank refused to be convinced.

“There is little danger that I’ll be put in captain ofthe nine,” he said.

“There is every danger of it. You are the very manwho will be offered the place.”

“But the committee will not accept my terms.”

“Your terms?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Why, you——”

“I shall have a proposal to make to them.”

[Pg 149]

Harry did not have such scruples about questioningFrank as troubled Hodge. His curiosity was aroused.

“What sort of a proposal will you make?” he asked.

Frank did not answer the question, for, at that moment,another man entered the park, saw Merriwell, andapproached him swiftly.

“Hardy!” exclaimed Frank.

“Hardy!” cried Rattleton, softly. “He’s up to somethingnow. Look out for him, Merry! Don’t be trapped.”

CAPT. MERRIWELL.

Phil Hardy was an honest-looking fellow, and it wasnot remarkable that Merriwell did not believe him thecrafty chap Rattleton represented him to be.

He came forward swiftly.

“You are the very man I am looking for, Mr. Merriwell,”he said.

“Well, you have found me,” smiled Frank.

“I thought I might find you here when I found youwere not in your room or on the campus. You are wantedat a meeting of the directors of the ball team.”

Rattleton gave Frank a warning look.

Hardy took hold of Merriwell’s arm and led him away,while Hodge and Rattleton followed.

“It’s a shame to drag Merry into this!” splutteredHarry.

“Into what?” asked Bart, innocently.

“Why, don’t you know? They’re after him to be captainof the ’varsity nine in Hardy’s place.”

“That’s good.”

“Good!” cried Harry. “It’s a conspiracy—a plot—anoutrage! That’s what it is!”

“Oh, come off! What are you driving at, anyway? Areyou nutty?”

“Not a bit of it, Hodge. I tell you it is a plot to hurtFrank! He’s a fool if he lets them pull him into it afterwhat I have told him! But, for all of his shrewdnessabout most things, he is easy sometimes. He wants tothink everybody white. He is the kind of fellow who willlet a chap walk all over him and then play the friend tothat sort of a cur. That’s where he makes his mistake.”

[Pg 151]

Now Hodge was aroused, for Rattleton had touchedhim on a tender spot.

“You are wrong!” cried Bart, flushing. “No man walksall over Frank Merriwell. You never knew a fellow toget the best of Merriwell and hold his advantage. Frankis a fighter, and his worst enemies agree on that point,but he fights fair. He will not take an unfair advantageof his meanest and most sneaking enemies, and, for thatvery reason, the worst enemies he has respect him.”

“Rot!”

“There is no rot about it. I know, for I was his enemyonce, and I did everything in my power to injure him.I did not hesitate to resort to any sort of expedient, nomatter how mean and sneaking. I did some very meanthings, but still I could not get the best of Frank Merriwell.Sometimes I thought I had him, but I always foundout my mistake. When I got him down I was unable tohold him. It made me furious, for I have a temper ofmy own and a little pride. I was fierce enough to killhim.”

“Well, what does that prove?” impatiently askedHarry.

“Wait. I am not through. What I want to tell you isthis: The more I tried to hurt Merriwell in a sneakingmanner the lower I sunk in my own estimation, for Ifound that he knew what I had done, and yet he refusedto get back at me in the same way, although he had opportunitiesenough. He would not lower himself to fightme with the same kind of weapons I was using. Atfirst I thought him afraid of me——”

“That’s it! that’s it!” cried Rattleton. “That’s justwhat they think of him when he goes easy with them.”

“But I learned better than that after a time,” Hodgewent on. “I found out he was not afraid at all. It was[Pg 152]not cowardice, but it was courage. He was willing to fightme fairly while I took any mean advantage of him, andstill he was not afraid I would get the best of him in theend. He felt himself my match, and I began to feelthat he was a better man than I in every way. That waswhat hurt me most. I did not like to think that the fellowI hated was more honorable than I; I did not like to thinkhe would scorn to strike me a foul blow, knowing all thewhile that I had struck him many such blows. I wasforced to confess to myself that he was a squarer manthan I, and that hurt me more than anything he couldhave done to me. It is the same with his enemies now.They know he is white, and they feel that they are sneaks.That galls them.”

“Let Frank Merriwell alone, Rattleton. He has a levelhead, and he can take care of himself.”

“Oh, you don’t understand the situation now!” criedHarry, showing impatience. “That is plain enough.Frank is so square he would not dream anybody couldpull him into the trap that is set for him. Now look here,Hodge, I want you to understand that I am just as muchMerry’s friend as you are, and I don’t like to see himtrapped. I have warned him, but I’ll bet he’ll let themfool him just the same.”

“It’s seldom he is fooled, old man. It may seem fora time that he is fooled, but, in the end, it turns out theother party is the one fooled.”

“It can’t turn out that way this time. I have been incollege longer than you, Hodge, and I know somethingabout what I am driving at. The ’varsity nine is in abad way this season. It is weaker than it has been beforein six years, while Princeton and Harvard arestronger. Yale’s stanchest supporters say she has no showof winning the pennant. Now, right here is where thetrick comes in. Phil Hardy is captain and manager. He[Pg 153]knows he will be blamed more or less for the fizzle Yaleis bound to make, and he gets out in a hurry——”

“By his doctor’s orders.”

“Bah! Fake! Trickery! Can’t fool me that way! Doctor’sfush! I talk what I’m knowing about—I mean Iknow what I’m talking about. It was a trick. Hardywanted to get out, and he took that way. Now, Merriwellis to be pulled in to fill the place, so all the blame may bepiled on his shoulders. I’ve told him the whole business,and he will go in with his eyes open.”

“If you have told him, don’t worry about him,” saidBart, quietly. “He won’t be caught.”

“That’s what Hardy is after him for. I heard himsay the directors of the ball team wanted to see him.”

“That’s all right. They will not trap Frank Merriwell.Don’t let that worry you.”

But Bart could not impart this feeling of confidence toHarry. They got on to the same car with Hardy andMerriwell, and Rattleton was uneasy and nervous all theway back to the college.

Harry wanted to get another word with Frank beforethe latter went before the directors, but Hodge held himback.

“I tell you to let him alone,” said Bart, sharply. “Ishould resent it if you kept after me in such a manner.”

“You needn’t worry!” snapped Harry. “I wouldn’tkeep after you at all. If I took the trouble to warn youonce, I’d let you go after that.”

“Surely Frank Merriwell is as shrewd as I am.”

The afternoon exercises were over. On the campuswere gathered knots of students, all of whom seemed tobe eagerly discussing something of general importance.

“They know what is up,” said Harry. “They are talkingbaseball.”

He was right. Almost the sole topic of conversation[Pg 154]on the Yale campus that afternoon was the baseballsituation. The outlook for Yale was so dark that themost hopeful felt the shadow of gloom. Right on top ofthe loss of Capt. Hardy, Bink Stubbs had been conditioned,so that he must give up playing or take the chance ofbeing dropped a class. The general feeling seemed to bethat Yale’s nine was all to pieces.

The appearance of Merriwell in company with PhilHardy caused a stir.

“There goes the lamb to the slaughter,” laughed WalterGordan, who was in the midst of a little gathering ofMerry’s old-time foes.

“Wouldn’t it be moah propah to say the cawfe?”drawled Willis Paulding, with a weak attempt at wit.

“Oh, he made himself a big gun by his work on thefootball team last fall,” said Pooler, with a grin of satisfaction;“but he’ll lose it all if he takes Hardy’s placeon the nine.”

“He can’t get Hardy’s place,” said Walt Forrest.

“Hey?” cried the others. “What do you mean by that?It’s what they want him for.”

“I guess not,” grinned Forrest.

“Really?” questioned Sidney Gooch, in his smooth, insinuatingway. “Why, that is what I heard.”

“They may want him to be captain of the nine,” saidForrest; “but he can’t have Hardy’s place. He will besubstitute captain, and that is all. Besides that, Hardy wasmanager. I know for a fact that the directors intend tokeep Hardy in manager just the same, so Merriwell willbe under him.”

“And I know for a fact,” said Pooler, “that Phil Hardyhas no intention of remaining manager. He knows betterthan that. Don’t take that boy for a fool.”

“You think—just what?”

“He wants to get out of it entirely.”

[Pg 155]

“Because he thinks Yale has no show?”

“Sure.”

“Aw! I think that is wight, don’t yer ’now,” drawledPaulding. “Some verwy fine fellows in Hawvard. Iweally think they awe going to win this yeah.”

No one paid any attention to Willis, for his opinionwas not regarded as important.

“If Hardy gets out, Merriwell will be manager,” saidWalter Gordan, who was green with envy, although hewas trying to hide it.

“Not on your life!” laughed Forrest. “The directorswill attempt to manage the team themselves, and I pitythe poor devil of a captain. He’ll get it in the neck onall sides.”

This caused a general laugh, for these fellows rejoicedto think of the trouble Frank Merriwell would get into.

“Weally,” said Willis, again attempting to call someattention to himself, “I am wuther glad Hawvard has ashow this yeah. I do not think it propah faw Yale towin all the time, deah boys.”

“Oh, rats!” cried Gordon. “Harvard hasn’t a show.It will be Princeton this year.”

The others nodded.

“Finch will make monkeys of our poor fellows,” saidPooler, with an attempt at dolefulness.

“What’s the matter with you?” exclaimed Forrest.“You want to see Yale defeated?”

“Oh, really I protest!” cried Pooler.

“Still, as long as Merriwell has anything to do withthe Yale team, it will give you satisfaction to see Yale defeated.You can’t deny that,” said Forrest.

“Oh, I’d rather see Yale win, for all of Merriwell, butI do not have so much sympathy with her when she losesif he plays.”

“Say!” cried Forrest. “I want you to think of one little[Pg 156]thing. Yale seldom loses at anything when Frank Merriwellis in the game. He seems to be Old Eli’s mascot.”

“Of cawse, it’s all beastly luck,” put in Paulding. “Hedoesn’t really have any more to do with it than any othergood man would.”

“You may think as you like about that,” said Forrest,evasively; “but you must confess that he seems to bringYale good luck. We thought she was a dead duck atfootball last fall, but he put new life and snap into theteam, and Yale came out on top.”

“He can’t do that with the ball team,” said Gordan.“There’s where he’ll meet his Waterloo.”

“Let’s see, Gordan,” said Forrest, “I believe you andMerriwell were rivals for pitching honors the first yearin college. He got on to the ’varsity nine, and you gotleft. Ha, ha! You haven’t admired him since.”

Gordan flushed.

“Oh, it wasn’t that,” he declared; “but he thinks he isso much. That’s what makes me sick.”

“We all have our reasons for not loving him,” saidPooler. “It’s no use to talk about that. The worst thingI wish him now is that they make him captain of the ballteam.”

Rattleton and Hodge drifted from knot to knot of thestudents on the campus, finding all were talking baseball.The events of the last few hours had stirred up the“sports” wonderfully.

Rattleton was excited and nervous. He was waiting forthe reappearance of Frank Merriwell.

On the other hand, Hodge seemed unusually cool andunconcerned. Bart smiled whenever he heard fears expressedas to the result of the struggle for the pennant,and he smiled more when some one declared Yale did nothave a show.

It was generally known that the directors meant to[Pg 157]appoint Merriwell captain of the nine, but there were nota few who declared Frank was too wise to accept theposition at that late hour and under such unfavorable circ*mstances.

An hour passed. It was growing dark swiftly. Lampswere sending gleams of light from the windows of thequad. It was a mild spring night, and voices could beheard calling from the open windows. Over in SouthMiddle a banjo was plunk-plunking. There were burstsof laughter now and then. Some fellow was whistling“Maggie Murphy’s Home.”

Still the “sports” lingered on the campus, waiting forHardy and Merriwell to appear.

Rattleton was so nervous he could not hold himself stillthree seconds at a time. Hodge was not disturbed in theleast.

“Here they come!”

Somebody uttered a cry. The former captain of thenine was seen approaching, with Frank Merriwell at hisside. He was seen to grasp Frank by the arm and drawhim toward the largest collection of students near thefence. Other students made a rush for that spot.

“Gentlemen,” said Phil Hardy, speaking clearly anddistinctly, “I wish to introduce to you my successor, Mr.Merriwell, who is now captain and manager of the ’varsitynine.”

FRANK’S TERMS.

“Three cheers for Capt. Merriwell!”

“Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!”

“Three more for Manager Merriwell!”

“Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!”

The pent-up feelings of the crowd burst forth in a wildroar of satisfaction.

“Now,” rang out the clear voice of Charlie Creighton,as he scrambled up on the shoulders of two strong fellowsand waved his cap in the air, “now give three cheers forplain Frank Merriwell, the whitest man, the truest sport,and the best all-round athlete in Yale! Wake ’em up!”

They did. The feeling of enthusiasm that seized uponthem just then was intense, and they cheered and cheeredagain.

The windows of the quad filled. The news spread, andthe cheering became general.

Harry Rattleton was numb with dismay.

“Manager and captain!” he gasped. “Gracious!”

Bart Hodge was palpitating with satisfaction.

“Manager and captain!” he cried. “Hurrah!”

On the outskirts of the crowd that had gathered soswiftly about the new captain was Walter Gordan, eatinghis heart out with envy.

“Oh, it’s just his infernal luck!” Walter whimpered.“Hear the fools cheer for him! It’s all they know!”

“Let them cheer now,” Pink Pooler muttered in Gordan’sear. “The cheering will turn to groans after a fewball games have been played.”

“I don’t know,” said Forrest, who had caught Pink’swords. “He has been shrewd enough to get himself appointed[Pg 159]manager, as well as captain. There is no tellingwhat he may do with the team.”

“It’s too late for him to make it a winner,” said Pooler,with satisfaction. “It takes time to build up a winningnine.”

Frank’s friends crowded about him, shaking hishand and congratulating him, with a few exceptions.Some of his friends were not enthusiastic over his appointment.Harry Rattleton was one of them. A fewothers thought the same as Harry about it.

But these were but few of the crowd that swarmedabout Merry. Of course, some of those who shook hishand and expressed their delight were hypocritical, butthe most of them were sincere.

Frank was modest. He smiled and said:

“Thank you, fellows. You are more than kind. It doesone good to know he has such friends.”

Harry Rattleton groaned.

“It seems to me Merry is getting to be a soft thing!”he muttered. “They have made a mark of him this time,and he walked into the trap with his eyes open.”

Harry was disgusted. He had warned Frank, butFrank had not heeded the warning. From what he hadoverheard, Rattleton was sure it was a trap to injureFrank.

For a little while Harry was so disgusted that he wentoff by himself and declared he was glad of it, and that hehoped they would soak it to Frank.

Then he was ashamed of himself for wishing ill luck tosuch a friend, and he felt like punching somebody’shead.

It was about this time that Andy Emery, on the way tohis room, saw Rattleton standing all alone in a dejectedattitude beneath one of the big elms.

“Hey, there, Rattles!” called Emery, coming close[Pg 160]enough to recognize Harry in the twilight. “What areyou sulking here for? Why aren’t you making merryalong with Merriwell’s other friends?”

Harry looked at Andy and scowled. The scowl waswasted in the gloom, for Emery did not see it.

“What’s the matter with you?” asked Emery, comingcloser. “You should be happy to know Merriwell iscaptain, even if Yale does not stand a show of winning.”

“Now, you want to be careful!” growled Harry,fiercely. “I’m in no mood for your jokes! I’ll bet yousomething Yale does win! They can’t beat Frank Merriwell!”

“Come off!” laughed Emery. “He’s made a chump ofhimself this time, and everybody knows it.”

“That’s a lie!” snarled Rattleton. “And I won’tstand to have anybody call Frank Merriwell a chumpbefore me!”

Then he let fly his right hand, struck Emery on the chinwith his fist, and knocked the fellow down.

The moment Rattleton did this he was sorry. It seemedhe did it without thinking.

Emery was dazed and astounded. He had always regardedRattleton as a peaceable sort of fellow, butnow——

“What in blazes do you mean?” he gasped, lifting himselfupon his elbow.

In a moment Harry was kneeling beside the fellow hehad struck.

“Forgive me, Emery, old man!” he cried, his voicequivering with shame and regret. “I didn’t know I wasgoing to do it—honest, I didn’t! I did it before I thought!I’m half crazy, anyway! You know I wouldn’t do such athing purposely! Let me help you up!”

“Get out!” said Emery, sharply. “I can get up myself.[Pg 161]You are not to be trusted! It must be you havebeen drinking!”

“Not a drop. But I think I am dind of kaffy—I mean,kind of daffy! If I hadn’t been——Say, old man, hitme! I’ll take it all right. Soak me a good one! Knockme down!”

Emery was on his feet, and Harry was begging to bestruck in turn. Andy looked at him in amazement, andthen turned away, gently rubbing the spot where Rattleton’sknuckles had struck.

“You are daffy!” Emery flung over his shoulder. “Youought to be in an asylum.”

Harry stood still and stared after Emery till he wasgone. Then an almost irresistible desire to shed tears assailedthe excited fellow, who was completely unstrung.

He hurried to his room and locked himself in, feelingthat he never wanted to see anybody again.

Deep down in his heart Harry Rattleton was one of thetruest of Frank Merriwell’s friends. His affection forFrank was of the most intense nature, and, being somewhatexcitable, he had become hysterical over the misfortunehe believed had befallen Merry. He would have doneanything to keep Frank from walking into the trap. Hewas proud of Frank’s record at Yale, and he felt sure thismeant the ruin of the proud reputation Merry had won.

Harry got hungry after a time. He began to realize it,and he became aware of the fact that he had not eaten dinner.Then he decided to go out to a restaurant somewhereand have something all alone by himself. He would bealone in his misery.

He was slinking along the streets like a whipped dogwhen somebody blocked his path, and a voice cried:

“Here he is, fellows! We won’t have to go to his roomfor him. It’s a streak of luck.”

Harry’s heart gave a thump as he recognized Merriwell’s[Pg 162]voice. He looked up, and saw three fellows beforehim. They were Merry, Hodge and Browning.

“Come,” said Frank, locking arms with Harry. “Wehad started out to have a little feed when I thought of you,and we turned back to get you, if you have not eaten.”

At first Harry thought he would lie—thought he wouldsay he had just eaten, so he might get away. But whenhe tried to say so, the words stuck in his throat. SoMerry had thought of him, and they were coming to hunthim up and take him out. He choked, and there was ablurr before his eyes.

“You are very good,” he said, weakly, “but——”

“There is no but about it,” said Frank, in his hearty,whole-souled manner. “If you have not eaten, you mustcome along and have a square feed; if you have eaten, youmust come along just the same and watch us fill our sacks.Line up, fellows, and close in on him.”

Hodge took Rattleton’s arm, and Browning fell in behind,lazily observing:

“He’s in for it now. Escape is impossible.”

So they bore him away to a first-class restaurant, wherethey had a little private dining room all to themselves, andMerriwell ordered an elaborate spread, and they pitchedinto the food and ate like the hearty, hungry fellows theywere.

As he ate, Harry’s heart warmed. Frank was jollierthan ever before. He laughed and joked, he told storiesthat caused the others to shout with laughter. He was theprince of good fellows, that was sure. Still, Harry couldnot help thinking what a shame it was that he had beentrapped.

Hodge was unusually talkative, although his talk was ofa serious nature. Browning managed to crack a joke nowand then, and he was able to eat and laugh as heartilyas anybody.

[Pg 163]

Not a word did any of them say about Merriwell’s newposition of responsibility till the meal was over and theirappetites satisfied.

Then Browning produced cigarettes and offered themto the others, laughing as he did so.

No one accepted a cigarette.

“I don’t suppose anybody will object if I smoke,” saidBruce, as he selected one.

“Yes,” said Frank, quietly, “I shall object, old man.”

With no little surprise, Browning saw Merriwell was insober earnest.

“Great Scott!” he exclaimed. “Why should you object?”

“I have a very good reason. I may want you beforethe season is over.”

“Want me?” cried Browning. “What for?”

“First base.”

“Come off!”

“I am in earnest.”

“Why, I am too fat, Frank—I am not in condition.Such a thing is ridiculous!”

“You are large, but you might be fatter than you are.I know you can train down swiftly. A week of hard workwill pull you down at an astonishing rate.”

Bruce groaned.

“It might; but I should not live through it,” he said, ashe struck the match and prepared to light the cigarette.

Frank blew out the match and took the cigarette fromBrowning’s fingers.

“I am talking business to you now,” he said, almoststernly. “You are going to work systematically to-morrowto work off your flesh, for I may want you on the ’varsitynine. When you are in condition, you are a better manthan Parker on first, while Parker is a better man than[Pg 164]Faunce in the field. One trouble with the nine is that severalof the men are not playing in their proper positions.”

“But you are not going to have the nerve to switchthem around! You will not have the crust to fire some ofthem and take on new men?”

“Won’t I? Wait and see. You know I am manager,as well as captain. I considered everything before I toldthe directors what I would do. They wanted me to becaptain, while they retained the management of the nine.I said ‘Nit!’ I told them that, if I became captain, I mustbe manager also, and that I must have absolute and thoroughcontrol of the team. I must have the authority todo just as I pleased, with nobody to forbid me.”

“Good for you!” cried Hodge, while Rattleton brightenedup and showed great interest.

“It staggered them at first,” smiled Frank. “Theythought I had a crust. They tried to induce me to agreeto their terms, but I would not. Then they had a fightamong themselves, for some were against giving me somuch rope. I waited quietly till the smoke of battlecleared away, and then I found they were ready to acceptmy terms. So I am manager, as well as captain, and I amgoing to run things just as I please. If I make a fizzle ofit, no one else will be to blame.”

“That’s the stuff!” exclaimed the enthusiastic Hodge.

Harry shook his head, but said nothing.

Frank saw the movement, and quickly asked:

“What’s the matter, Rattles? Come, come! You areoff your trolley. Everything is all right.”

“I’m afraid everything is all wrong,” said Rattleton,gravely; “but I warned you, and you went into it withyour eyes open.”

“Yes, but I went in on my own terms. I’ll make anoverturning in the nine.”

[Pg 165]

“It’s too late for that.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Besides, the material is not here to make a corkingnine. You can’t make a first-class ball team out of second-classmaterial.”

“I believe the material is here,” said Merry, quietly;“but I do not think it is all on the nine. I got Hodge on,and now I am going to have Browning.”

“Oh, come, Merry!” gasped Bruce. “I’ll do almostanything for you, but I can’t torture myself to work offflesh in a hurry. Besides, I could not get enough offto——”

“You can get off enough in ten days so you will beable to play ball all right. I want you for your batting.Batters count. You are a good hitter, and the team isweak at the bat. It’s no use, Bruce; I want you, and amgoing to have you. You must quit drinking beer and smokingcigarettes. You must go into training to-morrow, andyou must work hard to get off superfluous flesh. Oneweek from Saturday you go on the nine.”

It was useless for Browning to beg; Merry had decided,and the big fellow could not get out of it.

“I wouldn’t do it for any other man living,” declaredthe lazy student; “but I suppose I’ll have to for you. Youare a perfect tyrant, anyway. What you say goes.”

“And what he says is right,” declared the confidentHodge.

“Then I will say right here,” spoke Frank, with quietassurance, “that Yale will have a nine that will be thesurprise of the season. We are going after that pennant,and Princeton and Harvard will have to hustle to win.”

Hodge nodded. He was thinking of Merriwell’s marvelousdouble-shoot.

[Pg 166]

“They can’t touch it,” he muttered.

“Eh?” said Browning. “What’s that? Touch what?”

“You’ll see,” said Hodge, his eyes gleaming. “Franksays the Yale team will be a surprise, but I know whatwill be a still greater surprise.”

PRINCETON’S STARTER.

The opening game of the college league was on. Yaleand Princeton were drawn up for the first struggle on thegrounds of the latter nine. Yale was in the field, with“Stew” Walbert in the box. The preliminary practice wasall over, and the umpire was opening a box to extract abrand new ball.

Haggerty and Merriwell were on the bench in uniform.Browning was on the bench in citizen’s clothes. Merriwellshowed no signs of nervousness. Browning wasplacid as a spring morning. Haggerty fidgeted.

Yale was not well represented by “rooters” from NewHaven. There was one lonesome little knot huddled on thebleachers, trying to look happy and confident, but makinga sad failure of it.

Yale men had stayed away. They felt that their teamhad no show at all, and they did not have the heart to godown to Princeton and root against a sure thing.

But there was plenty of blue in the grand stand. Theyoung ladies there showed that they admired the boysfrom Connecticut, and they were not afraid to show theircolors.

But the orange and black predominated even there. Itseemed to be everywhere. Princeton had a strong team,and men of good judgment were confident she would startoff a winner, flukes not taken into consideration.

Walbert was pale as he faced the first Princeton batter.He had seen long Joe Varney before, and he knewthe “gangling” left fielder of the “Tigers” was a “lacer.”

Walbert took a little time to look over the ground near[Pg 168]his feet. He planted his toe on the rubber plate, and thenwound up with an eccentric movement of the arm, andshot in a “twister.”

Varney went after the very first one, and got it!

Crack!—and away flew the ball toward right field, whilethe Princeton lads opened up at the crack of the bat.

“Hurrah! hurrah! Tiger—sis-s-s! boom! ah!”

It was a hit. Everybody saw that in a moment, forHal Faunce could not gather it in, although he sprintedfor it.

Down to first raced Varney. He was an exuberant fellow,and he flapped his long arms, like the wings of arooster, and crowed hoarsely as he stood on the bag.

That caused another roar to go up. Coachers were onhand, and they began rattling off their talk as soon as theball was returned to the pitcher.

Walbert tried to grin derisively, but there was a sickexpression on his face.

Bruce Browning grunted.

“Another one like that will break his heart, Merriwell,”he said. “He may be a good man when things are goinghis way, but he can’t stand grief.”

Frank said nothing. He sat there as if taking verylittle interest in the game, but he was watching Walbertclosely.

Beverage, Princeton’s short, was the second batter. Helaughed as he came to the plate; he laughed in Walbert’sface. The Tigers were full of confidence. They hadheard all about Yale’s weak points, and they were lookingfor a snap.

Walbert resolved that Beverage should not get a hit offthe first ball pitched to him, so he sent him an outcurvethat a four-foot bat could not have reached.

The ball was so wide that Hodge had to fling himselfafter it, and he lost his footing.

[Pg 169]

A great cry of delight and mingled derision went up.

Varney was scudding down to second, and Hodge wason his knees. But Bart had stopped the ball, and now heturned. Without attempting to get upon his feet, he drewback his arm and sent a liner flying toward second base.

It was possible that every one but Frank Merriwell wassurprised by this attempt of the catcher to throw to secondwhile on his knees. A shout of contempt and merrimentwent up.

That shout turned to one of astonishment, for they sawthe ball fly through the air like a bullet, seeming to shooton a dead line for second. It did not seem that a mancould make such a throw while on his knees. It did seemlike a miracle.

The coachers were so astounded that they forgot toshout for the runner to slide, and Varney, who had seenBart fall when he went after the ball, believed there wasno need of taking a chance of hurting himself by sliding.

Wintz, Yale’s second baseman, came running toward thebag to cut Varney off. He acted as if he expected to takea throw, but Varney laughed aloud.

“Can’t fool me that way,” he said. “The trick is stale.”

But, a moment later he nearly fainted, for somethingshot before him and struck with a plunk in Wintz’s hands.Then the second baseman touched the runner, while Varneywas still four feet from the bag.

Varney stopped on second and turned quickly. He wasin time to see Wintz snap the ball to Walbert and hear theumpire cry:

“Runner is out!”

Varney was dazed.

“Who threw that ball?” he gasped.

“The man behind the bat, of course,” laughed Wintz.

[Pg 170]

“I know better!” cried Varney. “He couldn’t do it!He was down! It passed him. Some outsider threw it in.It is a blocked ball.”

But the umpire motioned for him to come in, and itdawned on him after a time that in some marvelous mannerthe Yale catcher had thrown the ball to second.

Hodge was cheered, and the wearers of the orange andblack joined in the ovation he received. The little groupof Yale men fairly split their throats howling their delight.

Pooler was one of the party from Yale, but he did notcheer as fiercely as the others. He was disgusted, as wellas astonished.

Walt Forrest shouted in Pink’s ear:

“That is a feather in Merriwell’s cap. Hodge has donegood work all along, but that throw was phenomenal. Heis bound to become one of the greatest college catchersever known.”

“Rot!” grunted Pooler. “He’ll make a fluke sometimethat will take the wind out of his sails. He can’t keep itup always.”

Pooler had not been able to get many bets, as he hadwished to bet on Princeton, and everybody else seemed towant to bet the same way. However, he had obtained afew by giving big odds, and all he regretted was that hecould not get more.

When Browning saw Hodge throw Varney out at secondhe lay back with a deep sigh of satisfaction, and itmust be confessed that Frank Merriwell breathed easier,for it had seemed that the runner was sure to make the bagsafely.

When the shouting was over, Walbert again faced thebatter. It seemed that he had gained fresh confidence, forhe got two strikes on Beverage right away. Then hetried to “coax” the batter, and soon the score stood threeballs and two strikes.

[Pg 171]

Then Walbert put one over, and Beverage sent it whistlingthrough the Yale short as if nobody was there. Itwas a two-bagger, and the Tigers howled their delight.

After that, a hit and an error filled the bases. ThenWalbert went “up in a balloon,” for he could not find theplate, and he forced two runs.

Haggerty had been warmed up before the game began,and now Frank lost no more time in taking Walbert outand putting the little Williams man in his place.

“What’s that mean, anyway?” growled one of the Yalerooters. “Why doesn’t Merriwell go in? Is he too lazy?”

“He doesn’t dare!” declared Pooler. “He knows Princetonis out for blood, and he doesn’t want to pitch a losinggame.”

“I don’t believe that!” cried Charlie Creighton. “Idon’t believe Frank Merriwell is a coward.”

“Well, you won’t see him pitch to-day, if he can help it.”

Haggerty flung his cap on the ground by his side, heldthe ball up before him with both hands, suddenly jerkedit toward him, humped his back in a queer manner, andsent it whistling over the plate.

The batter lined it out. The first ball the little fellowpitched had been met squarely and sent flying toward leftfield.

The man on third held the bag and watched Joe Costiganget under the ball. Costigan did get under it, waitedfor it and dropped it!

Then the man on third came scudding home, while theothers moved up a bag each, and again the bases were full.

“That is what comes of playing a man out of position,”thought Frank. “Costigan is a fine third baseman, but heis no fielder.”

But he did not say a word aloud.

[Pg 172]

Haggerty did his level best, and succeeded in strikingout the next man.

The Yale rooters cheered feebly.

The next batter put up a long fly, which Cal Jefferscaptured after a hard run, and the first half ended withPrinceton “three to the good.”

FRANK IN THE BOX.

“That is easy,” said Charlie Creighton, hopefully. “Ourboys will tie that without a struggle.”

But he was mistaken. Nat Finch, the Princeton wonder,did not do a thing but strike out three men in succession,while the great crowd roared its delight.

“That settles it!” said Pooler. “Those are three top-enders,the best batters on the team. If he can make monkeysof them like that, what will he do with the weakbatters?”

The rooters were silent. They were discouraged. Nota few of them wished themselves back to New Haven.

Frank was the only one who seemed calm and unruffled.Bart Hodge was pale.

“That fellow Finch is a wizard, Merry!” he huskily exclaimed.“I don’t believe anybody else can fool Cal Jefferslike that. Why, Jeffers is a hitter!”

“That’s right,” nodded Frank, quietly. “But there is aquestion.”

“Eh? What sort of a question?”

“Can Finch hold this up?”

“He has a reputation.”

“I don’t care. I’ll go you something that he slumpsbefore the game is over. He is a strike-out pitcher. Helikes to do that trick, as it attracts attention to him. Thatis what will count against him.”

“We don’t have one show in a thousand unless you peeloff and get into the game.”

“That is foolishness.”

[Pg 174]

“Not a bit of it. He has taken the wind out of thefellows.”

Frank sent Haggerty into the box again. The littlefellow dreaded what was before him, but he went out resolvedto do his best.

The first man up got a hit, while the next man got firston balls. Then the two tried a double steal, but Hodgeshut the fellow off at third with an easy throw, and Wallingcame near making it a double by a snap throw tosecond.

Then another man got a hit, which left a man on firstand third, the one on second only getting one base on thehit, as he stumbled and fell when he ran.

“A hit means a score!” roared a voice from the midstof the Princeton rooters.

“It may mean two scores,” cried another voice. “Murphywill steal second on the first ball pitched.”

Hodge called Haggerty up, and they whispered together,while the Princeton crowd guyed them.

Haggerty sent in a high ball on his next pitch, andMurphy, who was on first, shot toward second.

Hodge made a motion to line the ball down to second,and, as Stubbs was not playing in for a short throw and areturn to the plate, the man on third started toward home.

Hodge did not throw to second. With a snap hewheeled toward third, and sent the ball whistling at Walling,who was hugging the bag.

The runner saw the trick, stopped short, and tried to getback to the bag.

Over his shoulder sped the ball, and he saw he wascaught between the bases. He tried to dodge back andforth along the line, but Walling ran him down and pinnedhim.

Two men were out.

[Pg 175]

Thus far Yale had kept Princeton from scoring on thesecond inning, but it had not been by work in the box.

Now the men in yellow and black fell on Haggertyfiercely. They hammered him to right, to left, and to center.With two men out, they ran in three more scores ina hurry.

Before the third score was made, Frank Merriwell wasout of his sweater and warming up. When the thirdman crossed the plate, he walked into the diamond, andHaggerty, sick at heart, came out of the box.

Frank was greeted with a cheer. The Yale men cheeredhim, and Princeton men clapped their hands, for he waswell known and admired for his prowess.

His face was quite calm as he went into the box.

Pink Pooler sneered:

“Here is where Mr. Merriwell takes his medicine. Oh,Princeton has won the game now! Yale can’t get sixscores off a fellow like Finch.”

Nobody said a word. All seemed to feel that Poolerwas right.

Merry remembered how Billy Mains had paralyzed theBaltimore batter by sending in a double-shoot for the firstball, and he resolved to try it on the Princeton man. Bartsignaled for a drop, but Frank gave him a signal thattold his decision to use the double-shoot at the very start.

Having taken plenty of time, Merriwell sent in a“smoker.” The ball made a sharp outcurve, and thencurved inward so quickly that it passed fairly over theoutside corner of the plate, although it had looked like awild one.

“One strike!” cried the umpire.

The batter dropped his stick and stared at Merriwell,while cries of astonishment came from the grand stand.

The face of Bart Hodge was calm and cold as ice, while[Pg 176]his nerves were steady as a clock, although they had beenbadly shaken till Frank entered the box.

“Have I got ’em?” muttered the batter, as he rubbedhis eyes and picked up his bat.

“What’s the matter?” sharply asked the captain of theteam. “Why did you drop it?”

“You should have seen that ball!” returned the man atthe plate. “It had more curves than a corkscrew! I’ll bethe can’t do it again.”

Not a word did Frank say, but again he assumed a positionthat told Hodge he would pitch a double-shoot.

This time he started it with an in, and it changed to anout, just as the batter leaped back to get out of the way.

Over the outside corner of the plate passed the ball.

“Two strikes!” cried the umpire.

The batter was dazed.

“I’d give a hundred dollars to know what kind of twistshe is getting onto that thing!” he muttered. “Never sawanything like that before.”

After that he felt that he could not tell where the ballwas coming. The next one started with an outcurve, butthe batter feared it might twist in somehow, for all thatsuch a thing seemed utterly impossible, so he fanned theempty air trying to hit it, and was out.

Frank had pitched three balls and struck the man out.

“Now, fellows,” said Frank, as his men gathered aroundhim near the bench, “if you will keep cool and think youcan hit Finch, you will hit him all right before you quit. Iam going to try to hold them down hard. If we can makesome scores in any possible way, we stand a fair shot atthis game yet.”

“That’s rot!” said Hal Faunce. “We do not stand aghost of a show. I can’t hit Finch, and I don’t believethe rest of you can.”

[Pg 177]

Without showing the least excitement, but speakingvery coldly, Merry said:

“Faunce, go into the dressing room and get out of thatsuit. Browning will put it on if he can get into it.”

“What?” cried Faunce, harshly. “What do you mean?”

“I do not propose to put a man up against Finch whofeels sure he can’t hit the fellow. It’s a waste of time.”

“You are going to lay me off?” growled Faunce.

“Yes,” said Frank, and turned away.

Cursing under his breath, Faunce started toward thedressing room. Frank motioned for Browning to follow,and Bruce obeyed.

It happened that Faunce was a big fellow, and the suitswere loose, so that there was a chance for Browning toget into the one worn by the angry right fielder.

The game went on.

Bink Stubbs came to the bat and fanned out easily.Then Walling came up and popped an easy fly into theair, so Finch gathered it in and got an out to his credit.

Wintz was the next batter. He did not try to slaughterthe ball, but he got up against it fairly, and sent it out towardshort. Beverage should have picked it up, but hemade a fumble, and Wintz succeeded in reaching firstahead of the ball.

“Here is where we start,” said Frank.

But Parker, the next man, batted a liner straight atMurphy, who took it easily.

Still not a hit had been obtained off Finch.

Frank went into the box, prepared to make a fight tokeep Princeton from rolling up a score. He could not usehis great double-shoot often, but he resolved to use it atcritical times. He could control it in a marvelous manner,so it was not dangerous to use.

The first man up managed to find the ball. It was nota hit, but he got first on an error by Wintz.

[Pg 178]

Then Merry toyed with the next batter, while the anxiousrunner was held close to first, without daring to trya steal. At last the batter tried to bunt, but Frank apprehendedthe trick, and ran in the moment he pitched theball.

Down toward third rolled the ball. Merry got itahead of Walling, scooping it up with one hand, andturned, throwing it with the same motion that picked itfrom the ground.

Down to second sped the ball. It got there ahead ofthe runner, and Wintz snapped it to first quick as a flash.

It was a double play; both men were out.

Then the Yale rooters took heart and cheered. Oncemore not a few of the Princeton men were generousenough to give a hand.

Frank was not trying to make a brilliant record onstrike-outs, but he was holding his opponents down on hits.

The next man up struck out, however, and then Yaleonce again came to the bat.

For the next three innings the score remained just thesame; Princeton had made six, while Yale had not beenable to score, although Merriwell, Hodge, Browning, Jeffersand Wintz obtained good hits. Finch, however, waskeeping the hits scattered, and the cloud of gloom had settledthickly over the few Yale rooters huddled on thebleachers.

Merriwell was toying with Princeton’s best batters.Whenever it looked as if a good man had Merriwell in ahole, he would “put on steam,” send in one or two moreof those baffling double-shoots, and strike the man out.

The rooters growled. Why hadn’t Frank gone in atthe start? Then it might have been different. Now thegame was lost beyond recovery.

“That shows what a fine manager he is,” sneeredPooler.

[Pg 179]

In the sixth inning Yale seemed in just as bad luck asever. The first two men up went out, and then Hodgecame to the bat. There was fire in Bart’s eye. He waitedfor a good one, and then smashed it out for one of thelongest drives of the day, landing on third before the outfielderscould get the sphere back into the diamond.

Merriwell was the next batter. He was very particularin the selection of a wagon-tongue bat, and, when he cameup, he resolved to bring Bart in if possible.

Finch was shooting them over like bullets. He tried tostrike Frank out, and that was where he made his mistake.Merry picked out a good one, found it, met it, andsent it humming.

In came Hodge, while Frank made two bags with ease.

The Yale rooters brightened up.

“What’s this? What’s this?” cried Charlie Creighton.“They have dropped on Finch at last! Now they will hitanything he sends over the plate.”

The Yale yell was heard, and the little bunch of rootersdid their best to encourage the players.

Finch was astonished by Merriwell’s success. Suddenlyhe lost some of the supreme confidence that had buoyedhim up all the while. Yale had scored at a time when awhitewash seemed sure. What was going to happen next?

Cal Jeffers came to the plate. He had been placed atthe head of Yale’s batting list because of his qualities as ahard, sure hitter.

Hodge and Merriwell had secured hits, and Jefferslooked as if he meant to do the same.

Finch fiddled with the ball, while two Yale coachersshouted from opposite sides of the diamond. He pitchedtwice and had two called balls on him. Jeffers stoodcalmly waiting for a good one.

Finch decided to put on his greatest speed and cut the[Pg 180]outside corner of the plate. He did, and Cal Jeffersswung his bat.

It did not seem that Jeffers put any force into that hit,but the ball went skimming down between short and secondso fast that no one could touch it, and it placed Jefferson second, while Merriwell scored with ease.

Two for Yale!

The rooters broke loose in earnest. This was betterthan they had expected.

And big Bruce Browning was at the bat!

Now Bruce seemed very much awake. He had barelybeen able to pull on Faunce’s suit, and it looked as if hemight split open the shirt or the trousers at any moment.

Finch was nervous; he showed it. His confidence haddropped in an astonishing manner.

“It’s too bad,” said Pink Pooler, who showed somesymptoms of uneasiness. “Why didn’t the fellows do thisbefore? Now it is too late.”

“It’s never too late to mend,” said Dismal Jones, solemnly.“There is a chance for you.”

Finch resolved to worry Browning, but he made a mistakewith the first ball he pitched. Without intending todo so, he sent that ball over close to the ground.

Browning hit it, and rapped out a daisy-cutter that enabledhim to get first, while Jeffers, by the most brilliantrunning, crossed third and came home on a slide, gettingin the score.

“There’s half of it!” screamed Jack Diamond, from thebleachers.

His voice was drowned by the Yale cheers.

Right there Finch went entirely to pieces. He becameso wild that the next two men got a base on balls, and thebags were all taken. Then Walling rapped one to Princeton’sthird baseman. It should have been an easy out, butthe man was so anxious to pick it up cleanly that he juggled[Pg 181]it, tossed it into the air, caught it, threw it to first,and put it away over the head of the baseman.

Browning had scored, Costigan followed him, and BinkStubbs made a slide for third.

The right fielder was the man who got the ball. Heshot it to first, and first sent it across to third. It was anotherwild throw. The whole Princeton nine seemed “upin the air.”

Stubbs scrambled up, hearing the coacher yelling forhim to make for home. He did so. His short legs fairlytwinkled as he tore down the line, and he crossed the plateahead of the ball.

Then the Yale rooters yelled, and shrieked, and cheeredtill it seemed they were crazy, for the score was tied!

VICTORY!

Another pitcher was set to warming up right away, althoughit was as much the fault of the infield players asof Finch that Yale had tied the score. Finch saw the mangetting ready to go in, and that helped take the sand outof the fellow. He gave the next batter a base on balls, andthen Parker got a hit that brought Walling home andgave Yale the lead.

It was a happy crowd of rooters who wore the blue justthen. A few minutes before it had seemed that Yale didnot have a show in the game. At the beginning of theinning Yale had not scored, and Princeton apparently hada snap. Now Yale was one score in the lead.

The students from New Haven acted like maniacs.They howled like so many savages, they sung, theythumped each other, they laughed and shrieked.

There was one who did not shout. It was Pooler. Helooked very ill.

“Too bad!” he grated. “Is it possible Merriwell andHodge are going to be the cause of beating me again! Oh,Merriwell is poison to me! His man, Hodge, started theball rolling, and he followed it up. Then those Princetonpuppies acted like a lot of children! It’s awful!”

He wiped the cold sweat from his face.

“Here’s to good old Yale, drink it down!” sang therooters.

Finch dallied for time. He wanted to get out of thebox, for something told him Yale would keep right on pilingup scores while he remained in.

[Pg 183]

The Princeton captain sent out a new pitcher, and Finchdropped the ball willingly.

The new man pitched a very slow ball. It was a greatchange from the speed of Finch, and the batter popped upan easy fly to the infield, which retired Yale at last.

But the rooters were jubilant, and the players werehopeful.

“Now, fellows,” said Frank, as the men went out intothe field, “we must be steady and hold them down. If wecan do it, this game belongs to us.”

But it did not take him long to discover that the menwere too anxious. Walling let an easy hit go through him,and the batter reached first. Stubbs dropped a hotbounder, and two men were on bases. Wintz made a wildthrow to third, and the bases were filled without Princetonhaving made a hit.

The Princeton rooters were warming up.

They were doing their best to rattle Merriwell.

Frank did not believe in working for strike-outs, but hebegan to realize that the time had come when strike-outscounted. He trimmed the next batter’s whiskers with anin, he pulled him with an out, and he paralyzed him witha double-shoot.

“Three strikes—batter out,” decided the umpire.

“Got to do it twice more,” thought Merry, while Hodgenodded at him encouragingly.

He did. With astonishing ease, apparently, he made thenext two men fan, and Princeton had not scored.

Yale held the lead.

As Frank came in to the bench, Hodge met him andsaid:

“It was beautiful work, Merry! It was grand! Keep itup. You must win this game in the box. The team can’tbe trusted.”

“I will do my best,” said Frank, quietly.

[Pg 184]

He did. Although Yale was unable to make anotherscore, Frank held Princeton down so she could not recoverher lead, although she filled the bases in the ninth, andmade a desperate bid for a score. For the last time in thegame, Merry used the double-shoot, and the last Princetonman fanned gracefully.

It was all over but the shouting. Yale had won, and thelittle crowd of loyal rooters were weak from their vocalefforts, but happy—so happy!

Without doubt, the most wretched man in New Jerseythat day was Pink Pooler. He hated Frank Merriwell, hehated himself, he hated everybody and everything. Thevictorious shouts of the Yale men made him sick at heart,and he slunk away by himself.

The news was sent to New Haven by wire. The scorehad been sent out by innings, and at the end of the fifthinning, with the score six to nothing in Princeton’s favor,a deep cloud of gloom hung over the Yale campus. Theonly hope of the most hopeful was that Yale would manageto get in one run and save a shutout.

When the result of the next inning came in everyoneseemed paralyzed with astonishment. They could not believethe defenders of the blue had made seven runs in asingle inning. It seemed utterly ridiculous. They thoughtit was a hoax. Some bets were made that it was not right.

And, when the game continued and ended, and theyknew for a certainty that Yale had won, there was a wildscene on the Yale campus. To snatch victory from defeatin such a manner was enough to set the Yale men wild.

“Where is Finch?” was the cry. “Oh, he had his troublesin the sixth! Our boys didn’t do a thing to him!”

It was a remarkable game; the score board told that.A hundred fellows said they would have given anythinghad they seen it. They were regretful when they thought[Pg 185]how they had remained away because they thought Yaledid not have a chance to win.

Everybody talked baseball, and Frank Merriwell’s namewas on everybody’s tongue. It was generally believed thathe was responsible for the marvelous manner in whichYale had won.

“You may bet your life he did most of the pitching,”chuckled Paul Pierson. “Princeton did not score afterthe second inning. I’ll bet something Merriwell pitchedthe last seven innings of that game.”

It was a happy crowd of players and rooters who tookthe train for New York that night. Some Princeton mencame down and saw them off.

“It’s all right, fellows,” called the Tigers. “You wonby a fluke. Next time Finch will paralyze you. He is adandy!”

“What’s the matter with Merriwell?” cried CharlieCreighton. “You did not make a score off him. How doyou like that delirium tremens curve of his?”

“It’s a bird!” was the answer; “but we’ll eat it nexttime.”

“Oh, I don’t know! Finch is a dandy, but what’s thematter with Merriwell?”

“He’s all right!” shouted the jolly lads on the railwaystation.

“You bet he is!” flung back the Yale men on the train.“Three cheers for Merriwell!”

“Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!”

Then the train drew out of the station.

It was one of those glorious hours that comes to everycollege lad who admires the manly game of baseball. Andit seems remarkable that any live American boy with warmblood in his body can fail to love the game with all hissoul.

FIGHTING A GANG.

“Merriwell won the game.”

That was the report brought back to New Haven by thevictors, and Frank was more of a hero than ever.

There was one man who came back with a heart overflowingwith bitterness. Pink Pooler had made bets rightand left that Yale would not win the pennant that season.He had offered all sorts of odds, and he felt that he wouldbe in a bad hole if Yale did win.

Yale played Harvard on Yale field to follow the Princetongame. Now that the blue had won over the orangeand black there were enough fellows with money to betthat Yale would down Harvard.

Pooler had received a “straight tip” that Harvard wascoming with a powerful team, and he raked every dollarhe could raise to back her as a winner.

Pooler firmly believed Yale had won the Princeton gameby a fluke. Harvard must come out ahead in the gameon the following Saturday. If not by fair means—well,there would be a way to fix it!

Much talk was made about Merriwell’s double-shoot.Hodge was enthusiastic over it. He declared Merrywould paralyze the Harvard men with that curve.

Frank retired Hal Faunce from the team. He put PussParker in right, and placed Bruce Browning on first.Then he pulled in Joe Costigan from left field and restoredhim to third base, the position he had played the previousseason.

“Who will he play in left?”

That was an open question. He practiced with both[Pg 187]Gamp and Walling in that position. Walling showed uppoorly, while Gamp, tall, “gangling” and awkward, madesome remarkable catches. Walling was placed on thebench, and Gamp was installed in left.

Old players looked on aghast. Surely Merriwell wascrazy. Gamp was not a practical man. Browning mightgo to sleep on first. What sort of a team was Frank gettingtogether?

Merry did not pay any heed to what was being said. Hetook his team out for practice every day. He workedthem hard. He drilled them on team work. He had themso everyone understood the code of signals which he introduced.

Pooler went out day after day to see them practice. Hewas deeply interested, and not a few fellows believed hisinterest came from patriotic motives.

He was sizing up the nine, and, as the day for the gamewith Harvard approached, he became more and morenervous.

“I can’t lose this time!” he thought. “It will ruin me!Merriwell is the moving spirit of the whole team. Withhim out of the way, Harvard would have a walk-over.”

With him out of the way!

That thought kept running in Pink’s head. How couldMerriwell be disposed of so he could take no part in thegame against Harvard?

Pooler fell to scheming. He formed plan after plan,but discarded them all. He thought of trying to drugFrank on the field, but that had been tried too many times.It was dangerous, and it might not prove successful.

“No,” he decided, “I will see that he is cooked in advance.”

He went into town, and was seen talking with some ladswho seemed rather disreputable in appearance.

Friday came. Among the first to reach the park for[Pg 188]practice was Merriwell and Hodge. Frank was going topitch to Bart a while before all the team assembled on thefield.

It happened that Bart and Costigan were the first to getout of the dressing room, and Frank was left putting onhis shoes. He finished his task, and rose to his feet. Ashe did so, the door opened and a rough-looking chapdodged in.

“Hello!” exclaimed Frank, in surprise. “Who areyou, and what are you doing here?”

The fellow caught up a bat and swung it aloft.

“Shut up!” he hissed. “If you holler, I’ll split yourhead open!”

Then he gave a sharp whistle.

Frank knew that whistle was a signal, and he instantlyrealized crooked work was a-foot. With his eyes he measuredthe distance to the intruder. An instant later, hemade a catlike spring, caught hold of the bat, twisted itfrom the fellow’s hand, and had him by the collar.

“You infernal sneak!” he cried. “What is your game?I am onto you!”

The door came open with a bang.

“Come on, fellers!” cried the first fellow to enter. “We’sgot him all alone! We kin fix him!”

Five or six young ruffians started to swarm in at thedoor. They had heavy sticks, and it was plain they meantto do Merriwell harm.

The one Frank had by the collar tried to give him aswinging blow, but, quick as a flash, Merriwell caughthim up and flung him straight at the gang in the doorway!

The human catapult struck the foremost of the ruffiansand nearly swept them off their feet. Before they couldrecover, Merry caught up the bat and charged them.

Mercilessly he belabored them over the shoulders.Once or twice he cracked one on the head.

[Pg 189]

They howled with terror and disgust, and Frank soondrove them from the dressing room. He slammed thedoor, barred it, and held them out successfully till some ofthe other players arrived on the field and came to hisrescue.

The gang, seeing they had been baffled in their attempt,lost little time in getting away.

“I’d give something to know who put them up to thejob,” said Frank. “I am sure they were hired to do meup. If I had not tumbled and acted in a hurry, they wouldhave done it all right.”

Hodge was indignant.

“I’ll wager something I can tell just who put them upto the game,” he said.

“Name him.”

“Pink Pooler.”

“What makes you think so?”

“Pooler hates you. He bet me fifty dollars Yale wouldlose the game with Princeton. I beat him at that, and Iknow that was not all the money he had on the game. Hehas put up everything he could rake that Yale will notwin the pennant. If Yale wins, Pooler is ruined. If hedidn’t hire that gang to do you up, I don’t know.”

“I hate to think it of him, but I remember now that hedid stand in with some of my enemies who have beendriven to leave college. I’ll keep my eyes open for him inthe future.”

“You won’t make a mistake if you do.”

The story of the attempt to knock out Merriwell causedno small excitement, for Frank had hundreds of friends,and all Yale seemed to look to him as the Moses whomight lead them out of the wilderness.

The time of the game with Harvard rolled round at last,and the boys from Cambridge came down in force. Rooterswith powerful lungs and tin horns galore were on hand.

[Pg 190]

Yale was at home, and she was stuffed full of courage,for all of the queer team Frank had got together.

Yale started off like winners, making two scores in thefirst. But, not to be outdone, Harvard managed to getin two on two scratch hits and as many errors.

Then both pitchers settled down, and not another scorewas made for six innings.

In the seventh Harvard scored. In the eighth Yale tiedher. In the ninth Yale got another and took the lead.

Then was the time for Frank Merriwell to show thetimber he was made of, and he did so. Then it was thathis double-shoot came into use, and won the game by foolingthree of Harvard’s best batters so they all struck out.

Yale had won the first two games of the series withPrinceton and Harvard, and was fairly on the road to thepennant.

Pink Pooler felt like murdering Frank Merriwell. Hetook no part in the jollification that night, but kept at adistance, listening with burning heart to the songs andcheers of the hilarious students.

That night he realized that he was a traitor in everysense of the word, and he was more bitter at heart thanever before.

“Frank Merriwell is responsible for it all,” he kept declaring.“He has the greatest luck! Sometime he willhave the luck to get it in the neck. Those fellows made afailure of the attempt to knock him out before the game,but they got away with my money, for they would notattempt the job unless I paid in advance.”

Although Frank knew he had enemies in Yale, he wasnot aware there was one quite so desperate and dangerousas Pink Pooler.

And, despite all his enemies, with the aid of his double-shoot,he succeeded in piloting the Yale team to victorythat season. The feat stands on record as most remarkable,[Pg 191]for it was generally acknowledged that never hadYale put a poorer team in the field at the opening of theseason.

It was generally agreed that she won almost all of hergames in the box.

NIGHT REVELLERS.

It was ten o’clock at night when the fine old societysong reverberated along York Street under the elms.

The freshmen at Mrs. Henderson’s “select house ofapartments for students” heard the song, and it set theirblood to bounding. They had been waiting and expectingto hear it for nearly an hour.

“They’re coming!” was the cry.

Along the street from the opposite direction came anotherchorus!

“Is the punch ready?”

“All ready,” answered the voice of Bruce Browning,who, along with Merriwell and other juniors, had comedown to stand by the “timid freshmen” through the“frightful ordeal.”

It was a “wild and weird decoction” Browning hadmixed in the great punchbowl. A huge cake of ice was[Pg 193]in the bowl, and it was floating in dark, amber-coloredliquid. The big junior had promised the freshmen that hewould give the sophom*ores something that would makethem “harmless.”

Diamond had tasted the punch. Immediately he howled“fire,” and asked somebody to run to the nearest box andsend in an alarm.

“If you would add some strychnine to it, Browning, itmight improve the flavor,” said Dismal Jones, with theutmost seriousness, apparently.

“I don’t think it would make it any more deadly!” exclaimedDiamond.

“Let Theta Psi and Beta Xi stand from under,” saidBruce, with a wild flourish of the big ladle.

The freshmen were happy, but nervous. Some of themhad been chosen for Theta Psi and Beta Xi. They knewit, but as yet were not aware who were to become the “victims.”The company of the juniors gave them confidence.Little did they dream that not a few of the juniors hadbeen members of those very societies, and were therereally for the purpose of helping along the sophom*ores intheir work.

When the first sound of singing was heard on the streetthe freshmen were all agog. Cigars were flung aside, andthere was a rush for the windows.

Tramp! tramp! tramp! The steady, regular tread ofheavy feet told of the approach of the rival clans.

Looking from the windows, the freshmen saw two greatgleaming balls of fire advancing from opposite directions.These were locomotive headlights carried in advance of thetwo bodies of sophom*ores. They were symbolic of Diogenessearching for an honest man. With the aid of theselanterns the sophom*ores sought out the freshmen in theirstudies and conferred upon them the glorious election tothe soph. societies.

[Pg 194]

It was an old custom, and had been some years in disusebecause of the opposition of the faculty. On the yearof which I write, it was revived again in defiance of allauthorities, although the faculty had given warning thatit would not be tolerated.

The freshmen had been notified to get away from thebig dormitories, which the societies dared not approach,and assemble on York Street. Certain ones had beengiven the tip to make Mrs. Henderson’s their headquartersfor the occasion. Some had taken heed to the tip, butmany, fearful of the consequence and not feeling certainof the intention of the sophom*ores, had remained away.

It was a dangerous thing to do, for the leaders of themovement stood in great danger of expulsion from collegeif they were found out.

“Here they come, boys!” cried one of the freshmen inthe windows. “They are both singing, and there is goingto be a fight between them!”

“That’s where you show your freshness, young fellow,”said Jack Diamond. “They all belong to the same class,and you couldn’t make them fight.”

“Put out the lights, freshies!” yelled a score of voicesfrom the street.

Both societies gathered on the sidewalk in front of theHenderson “ranch.” It was seen that they were disguisedin various ways. Some wore long dusters andhigh, pointed hats of white, while others wore blackgowns and high black hats. There were sixty of them inall, and they made the night hideous with their wild cries.However, there was no scuffling between them, and everythingindicated a friendly rivalry.

Soon the doors were opened, and the sixty sophom*orescame rushing into the house. They had captured a bassdrum somehow, and they beat it all the way from thesidewalk up the stairs.

[Pg 195]

The committee were in advance, and they singled outtheir freshmen, giving them the notification in a certainmanner that was both mysterious and formal. When itwas all over few of the freshmen selected knew of anybodyelse who had been thus honored.

Then the fun began.

Browning and Rattleton ladled out the punch in cupsand goblets, and it was “absorbed” with great rapidity bythe innocent sophies. Cigars, pipes and everything thatwould make a smoke were lighted, and it was not long beforethe atmosphere could be cut with a dull knife.

As usual, Frank did not smoke or drink, but he wasable to withstand the fumes of liquor in a marvelous manner,and he was enjoying it all immensely. He sang thesongs with the others, cracked jokes, and his ringing laughwas infectious.

“Walk up, gentlemen—walk up and get your poison!”cried Rattleton.

“That’s a good name for it,” said Jack Diamond.

In one of the rooms there was a scuffle and fall.

“What was that?” cried a startled freshman. “Itsounded as if something broke.”

“If it were a little later,” laughed Frank, “I shouldthink it was the break of day.”

It was learned that nothing serious had happened. Twofreshmen had punched each other a little, but that was notworth considering as long as neither freshman had beenkilled.

Charlie Creighton climbed on a table and gave a toast,holding a brimming goblet of punch aloft.

“Gentlemen, here is champagne to our real friends andreal pain to our sham friends.”

“Good! good!” was the cry, and a big inroad was madeon the supply of punch.

Dismal Jones arose and gravely said:

[Pg 196]

“I would like to inquire, gentlemen, how you regardthe manufacture of Eve from Adam’s rib?”

“I regard it as a side-splitting joke,” cried Merriwellquickly, and this answer brought a burst of applause, whileJones relapsed into his chair with a sweet, sad smile, anddrank more punch.

The freshmen were happy that night. Never beforehad they known the sophom*ores were such jolly good fellows.They took to the punch, regardless of the fact thatnot a few of them had seen it manufactured. They beganto get “mellow.” Sophom*ores and freshmen, rivals andenemies, hugged each other and danced about. Theywere seen with their arms about each other’s necks. Thefreshmen swore the sophom*ores were fine fellows, and thesophom*ores swore the freshmen were “dead easy people.”

The punch ran low. It was replenished out of a largetin canister, and Diamond swore that its last state waseven worse than the first.

“Oh, what a jolly lot of heads these fellows will havein the morning!” murmured Browning, as he continued toladle out the stuff, the perspiration pouring down his face.

Then of a sudden arose a fearsome cry:

“Faculty! faculty!”

Consternation, confusion, dismay! There was a furiousscramble to get out of the way somehow, anyhow, somewhere,anywhere. To be seen and recognized by thefaculty was a very serious matter just then.

The sophs and the juniors dove into bedrooms andplunged under the beds and into the clothes rooms, leavingthe poor freshmen to conceal themselves as best they could.

Heavy feet were ascending the stairs. Voices wereheard.

“That’s Prof. Mower!” sibilated a voice from one of theoverflowing clothes rooms.

[Pg 197]

“I don’t care about seeing him any more,” softly groaneda voice from beneath a bed.

Then there was a deep grunt of disgust for such a pun,proceeding from various portions of the dark room.

A shrill voice was heard outside the door.

“That’s Prof. Such!” came a husky whisper from theclothes press.

“He shouldn’t come here at such an hour,” punned anothervoice, from some mysterious corner of the darkroom.

“He’s too near-sighted to see anybody if there was alight in the room,” declared somebody.

“Hark!”

Another voice was heard beyond the door.

“That is Prof. Babbitt!” whispered several of the hidingones. “He is dangerous!”

Prof. Babbitt was a man who was continually in troublewith the students, who despised him, and lost no occasionto hector him.

Rap! rap! rap!

Three sharp raps on the door.

Silence within the room.

A hand fell on the latch, and the door was opened.Peering from beneath the bed and from other hiding placesthe students saw three persons stalk into the room.

“It’s very dark here,” said the voice that sounded likethat of Prof. Such.

“I—I think I smell tobacco,” said another voice, whichthe trembling culprits were certain came from the lips ofProf. Mower.

“I am certain I smell something worse than tobacco,”fussed the voice of Prof. Babbitt.

“Dear dear!” exclaimed the first speaker. “It is awful!I shall not be able to remain in this room.”

“It’s the punch they smell,” whispered one of the students[Pg 198]under the bed, holding his lips close to the ear of acompanion.

“It seems to be like some deadly gas,” hoarsely said thevoice of the second speaker. “Wait a minute, and I willfind the lamp.”

“What are you going to do, professor?” asked the thirdindividual. “Surely you are not going to——”

“Light the lamp—yes, sir.”

“But it is very dangerous. This room does seem filledwith gas. It might produce combustion if you struck amatch here.”

“Nonsense, my dear Babbitt!” exclaimed the one recognizedby his voice as Prof. Such. “Do light a lamp. Iwish to see if any of those noisy rascals are present. Wecould hear them plainly enough from the street, althoughit is strangely quiet in the house now.”

Prof. Such generally carried a cane with a brad in theend of it. It was for the purpose of aiding his somewhatunsteady feet at all times of the year. The boys under thebed could hear that cane jabbing about on the floor in anervous manner.

Somebody produced a match and attempted to light it,but broke it in two. Another was produced and struck.Then the three professors looked about for the lamp, butcould find none.

“Dear, dear!” fussed the voice of Such. “This is quiteexasperating. Can you see anyone, Babbitt?”

“Not a soul,” was the reply; “but the rascals may bein hiding. If we catch them, they shall suffer severely fordaring to do anything in defiance to the expressed orderof the faculty.”

“Quite right, professor—quite right. Some of themmay be under the bed. I will feel about with my cane.”

Then the cane with the brad in the end was thrust underthe bed, and that brad was thrust into one after another[Pg 199]of the students hiding there. Some of them started,but not one uttered a sound, although they longed toscream when they felt that sharp point.

“I don’t seem to find anyone,” said the squeaky voice.“Light another match, Mower.”

Another match was lighted, and the professor with thecane went round to the foot of the bed.

Now it happened that Bruce Browning had attempted tocrawl under the bed at that end, but had stuck fast aftergetting his head and shoulders under, and could not crawlfarther or retreat, he was there in that uncomfortableposition when Prof. Such came round.

“Hold the match here, Mr. Mower,” directed the shrillvoice of the near-sighted professor. “That is it.”

“Have you discovered anything?” asked Mower’s voice.

“No, no,” was the answer. “I thought so at first, butall I can see is a suit of clothes carelessly thrown downhere. There it is, professor.”

He jabbed the brad into something broad and round andfat.

Then there was a wild howl and an upheaval of that bed,as if an earthquake had occurred. Up came Bruce Browning,crimson in the face, and rubbing with both hands aportion of his person usually hidden by the tails of hiscoat.

“Confound you!” he roared. “I’m killed! You’vestabbed me with that thing!”

Then, with remarkable agility, he pranced past thethree professors and slammed the door, shouting:

“Up, fellows—up! This is a horse on us! It’s not thefaculty! These fellows are in disguise, and they’re hoaxingus!”

Then the three professors made a break to get out bythat door, dropping the match. The room was in darkness,and there was a furious battle for a few moments.

[Pg 200]

Some one brought out the lamp and lighted it. Thelight showed an interesting spectacle.

Browning, still up against the door, was seated on thefellow who had represented Prof. Such. Rattleton washolding down Prof. Babbitt; but it took Sidney Goochand three others to keep the third one from getting away.

“It’s no use, fellows,” said Bruce, grimly. “We’ve gotyou, and you may as well give up.”

The false Prof. Mower did so, with a laugh.

“You are right,” he confessed. “You caught us easy.”

Bruce turned his captive over. His spectacles had beenlost in the scuffle, and his disguise was torn away, so hewas readily recognized.

“Griswold, you confounded little villain!” roaredBrowning. “I have a mind to give you a good basting!You rammed about two inches of that brad into me!”

Danny Griswold, for it was the little joker, laughedheartily, saying:

“I guess some of the others felt it.”

“I guess yes!” cried one. “You found me.”

“Me, too!” admitted another.

The removal of “Babbitt’s” disguise revealed CharlieCreighton, who was convulsed with merriment.

“Well, fellows,” said Prof. Mower, “you turned thetables on us that time, and you did it in a hurry, or youwould not have caught us.”

He pulled off his false beard, and Frank Merriwell wasbefore them.

“You?” cried Browning. “I’ll wager something youput this job up.”

“Guilty,” laughed Frank.

“Boys,” thundered Bruce, “as punishment, we ought tohold him and turn a quart of that punch down his throat.”

“Mercy!” cried Frank. “Shoot me if I am to die, butdo not torture me to death!”

[Pg 201]

By this time those who had hidden in other rooms realizedsomething violent had happened, and were trying toget in. Bruce pulled his captive from the door and admittedthem. They set up a howl for vengeance when theylearned how they had been hoaxed.

Mrs. Henderson came upstairs and begged them to bequiet, but she was unceremoniously conducted to the headof the stairs, informed that a collection for her benefitwould be taken up soon, and instructed to remain below.

While the students were debating over the punishmentthat should be meted out to the captives, Sidney Goochsuddenly cried:

“Fellows, I’ve been robbed! My watch is gone!”

A POOR JOKE.

“It must be you lost it in the fracas,” said one of thefreshmen.

“Let’s look round for it.”

“Be careful not to step on it, fellows,” said another.“It must be on the floor here.”

“I don’t see how I lost it in the scuffle,” said Gooch.“See here; it was taken off this snap—or it came off,” headded, slowly.

Sidney’s manner plainly indicated a firm conviction thathe had been robbed.

“When do you think you lost it?” asked Newton Billings,one of the freshmen.

“I had it before we hid from these bogus professors,”said Sid.

“Then it is probable you lost it in the struggle to holdonto Merriwell,” said Harry Rattleton. “It must be rightaround here.”

“What sort of a watch was it?” asked Irving Nash.

“It was a Waltham, gold, hunter’s case, with my monograminside the front case. My mother gave it to me onmy last birthday, and I would not take anything for it.”

This was enough to make the boys forget the offense ofthe fellows who had attempted the practical joke on them,and all set about searching for the watch. They took thelight and went over the floor carefully. They moved thebed, peered into every corner and into the clothes press,but not one of them found the watch.

“Meers a history—I mean, here’s a mystery,” said[Pg 203]Harry Rattleton. “Astonishing disappearance. Watchout.”

Gooch seemed ready to dissolve in tears.

“I wouldn’t care so much if it hadn’t been a presentfrom mother,” he said, huskily.

“A fellow who would steal it must be mighty mean,”said Newton Billings, and somehow it seemed that helooked at Frank Merriwell in a significant manner.

Billings was a freshman who envied Merriwell his popularity.Immediately on coming to college he had attemptedto become a leader of his class, after the mannerin which Merriwell had led the freshmen in the past. Billingsand his clan carried things with such a high hand thatit became necessary for somebody to take the conceit outof the fellow, and Merriwell had been selected to do thejob, which he accomplished without difficulty.

From the time of his downfall Billings hated Merriwell,although pretending to be one of Frank’s greatest admirers.But he had never attempted to do Merry an injury,and was considered harmless.

“I hardly think there is a person who would deliberatelypick a man’s pocket,” said Frank, slowly, looking around.“I don’t wish to think such a thing of anybody in theroom.”

“Neither do I,” said Sidney; “and, of course, I can’t besure I lost it here, although I think I did.”

“Well,” said Billings, “if it is found in the house, youwill be sure to get it back. The gang in this house isstrictly on the level.”

Sidney had to be satisfied with this, and then the ladsreturned to the consideration of the case against the threefellows who had hoaxed them.

It was decided after a time that, as punishment, one ofthe three should tell a story, one should make a speech,and one should sing a song.

[Pg 204]

Griswold was selected to tell the story, Creighton agreedto make the speech, while Merriwell was to sing a song.

The room was packed full of students, and Browninginsisted that the punch should be sent round again beforethe fun began once more. Not a few of the fellows hadtaken too much already, but they were not the ones to protestagainst taking more.

Danny told a story, and it proved to be hilariouslyfunny, as it was all about a “horse” on a student wellknown to them all.

More punch was absorbed.

Then Creighton mounted upon a chair and made aflowery speech, which was vociferously applauded.

More punch was disposed of by the merry crowd.

The sophom*ores were reckless in their hilarity. Theywere out for a racket, and they had it. They seemed toforget the barrier between them and the freshmen.Freshmen and sophs could be seen hanging on eachother’s necks and pledging eternal affection over the flowingbowl. Fellows were friendly who would not recognizeeach other on the morrow. The freshmen were fearlessof the older classmen. They addressed them familiarly,talked to them in a familiar manner, joked themand toasted them.

Sidney Gooch seemed trying to drown his grief withpunch. Once in a while he would break out about hiswatch, but everybody else seemed to wish to forget allabout that.

Newton Billings had a brannagan on. He slappedsophom*ores and juniors on the back and told them theywere the “right kind of stuff.” He applauded Danny’sstory and Charlie’s speech.

“’Ray!” he cried. “Whazzer matter wi’ us! We’re allri’! What comes nex’? ’Sit Merriwell? ’Ray fer Merriwell!”

[Pg 205]

“This is getting pretty swift,” thought Frank. “I’llsing, and then I’ll watch for an opportunity to skip in ahurry. Some of these fellows will have to be takenhome on shutters.”

Browning seemed happy. There was a calm, sweetsmile on his weary face as he ladled out more punch. Atlast the deadly stuff was getting in its work.

Frank sang “Those Evening Bells,” an old-time collegesong. He rendered it beautifully, assisted by several voiceson the chorus, and a dozen fellows were extravagant withtheir praise.

“’S great!” declared Billings, getting beside Frank,who was sitting on the edge of the bed. “’S beautiful!You can shing, Merriwell! ’S w’at! Give us ’nozzer.”

Others urged Frank to sing again, and he saw theywould not be satisfied if he refused. He struck into“Stars of the Summer Night.”

This was another of the old-time college songs, seldomheard at Yale in these modern days, but the music ofMerriwell’s voice, and the mellowing influence of thepunch, moved one of the freshmen to tears.

“’S great!” murmured Billings, getting his arm aboutFrank’s neck and seeming to sob. “Merriwell, you’re abrick! Give fi’ hundred dollarsh ’f I could shing shame’syou can.”

“Make it something lively next time,” urged IrvingNash.

“Do!” cried several. “Give us something so we cancome in on the chorus and bear down heavy.”

Bink Stubbs started to sing “Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay,”[Pg 206]but that had seen its day and Bink came near getting himselfkilled.

“That’s all right, gentlemen,” he said, from his retreatbehind the bed. “I didn’t mean any offense, and I begyour pardon, as the convict said when the governor passedhis cell.”

“You are lucky to escape with your life,” said Rattleton.“Sing something late and catchy, Merry.”

Frank struck into one of the popular songs of the day,and the fellows all “made a stagger at it.”

As Diamond afterward declared, it was somethingawful.

“If this keeps up, the faculty is bound to come down onus,” Frank decided.

When the song was ended, Frank declared that hemust go.

“Don’t!” cried Billings, clinging to Merry with affectionthat was not relished.

“It’s getting awfully late.”

“We won’t go home till morning,” somebody sang.

“How late?” said Billings, familiarly reaching intoFrank’s vest pocket. “Where’s your watch, Merriwell?Oh, here she is. Wonder ’f I can see to tell what time’tish?”

He took a watch out of Frank’s pocket and began tofumble to open it.

“Say,” exclaimed Merry, “aren’t you getting a bit toonew? Hello! What is that, anyhow?”

Sidney Gooch started forward, uttering an exclamationof astonishment and satisfaction.

“That’s my watch, Billings!” he shouted. “Where didyou get it?”

Billings looked up in a stupid manner.

“G’way!” he gurgled. “’S Merriwell’s watch. Got ’toutof his pocket.”

[Pg 207]

“It’s my watch!” cried Gooch, clearly. “See, fellows,there is my monogram on the inside of the front case!That is the watch that was stolen from me.”

Gooch snatched it from Billings’ hand.

Frank Merriwell arose to his feet. He was aware thatevery eye in the room was on his.

“Gentlemen,” he said, his voice calm and steady, “thislooks to me like an attempt to get square with me for thelittle joke of a short time ago. If so, it strikes me as decidedlya mean way of getting back at me.”

THE SPYING PROCTOR.

Although he had not lifted his voice the least, therewas indignation in Merry’s manner, and his eyes wereflashing. He looked from one to another of the lads beforehim, as if seeking to discover the guilty one or ones.

There was a brief silence, and then Bruce Browninghastened to say:

“Oh, it’s all right, Merriwell. Billings must have doneit, for a joke, himself.”

“Not by a blamed sight!” came surlily from Billings,who seemed to have sobered up wonderfully when herealized that the watch really belonged to Gooch instead ofMerriwell. “I may have taken considerable punch, butI’m no practical joker, and I won’t be called a thief byanybody. Anybody calls me a thief I’ll fight him righthere and now!”

Billings seemed, in a half-drunken manner, to realizethat he was suspected by some of having stolen the watch.

“Oh, I don’t think you took it, Newt,” hastily saidGooch, as the freshman glared at him.

“Well, it’s a good thing f’you that you don’t!” growledBillings.

Then he turned to another freshman and mutteredplainly enough for all to hear:

“I’d punch face off’n him if he hinted anything of thesort! Dunno where the old watch came from. Took itout of Merriwell’s pocket.”

“One thing is certain——” began Harry Rattleton.

“And that one thing is that Frank Merriwell did notsteal Gooch’s watch,” finished Charlie Creighton.

[Pg 209]

“Oh, I don’t want to think anything like that!” hastilyexclaimed Sidney, with apparent sincerity. “As for Billings,he has not been near me this evening, so he couldnot be the one who took it from me.”

“It is possible no one took it from you, Gooch,” said Diamond.“Some fellow may have picked it up from the floorand tucked it into Merriwell’s pocket for a joke.”

“If any fellow did so, he will prove his manhood andrelieve Merry of suspicion by stepping forward and speakingup,” said Creighton. “Step right out! It was nocrime, although it was a foolish sort of joke.”

The boys waited for some one to step forward, but nota soul moved.

“Who had a good chance to swipe the watch, Gooch?”asked Walter Gordan, who had been keeping in the background.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” answered Sidney. “Isuppose lots of fellows have had a chance.”

“You missed it first just after we caught those fakeprofessors?”

“Yes.”

“You were one of the fellows who held Merriwell?”

“Yes, I was the first one to get hold of him. I couldn’thold him alone. It took four of us, and then he came neargetting away.”

“What are you driving at, Gordan?” flashed Jack Diamond,his face flushed with anger, for he fancied Walterwas attempting to wind the net about Merry.

“I’m just trying to find out——”

Walter hesitated, for he saw a gleam in the eyes of thehot-tempered Virginian that was more than a simplewarning.

“I hardly think anyone will believe that I would steal awatch,” said Merriwell, slowly; “and yet I do not like to[Pg 210]have this thing hanging over me. I repeat, if it was ajoke, it is a pretty poor joke.”

“Joke!” exploded Diamond. “It’s an infernal outrage,and I can lick the sneak who did the job! If more thanone fellow took part in it, I’ll agree to lick the whole gangone at a time!”

This brought something like the ghost of a smile toFrank’s face, for he thought of the time when Jack Diamondhad regarded fighting as low and beneath the dignityof a gentleman and Virginian. Then it was that Diamondhad refused as far as possible to engage in a “lowfistic encounter,” but now he was making fighting talkwithout saying anything about calling anybody out uponthe “field of honor.” Since coming to Yale there had beena wonderful change in the passionate lad from the South,but he was not a whit less courageous and full of chivalry.

“Thank you, old fellow,” said Frank, placing a hand onJack’s shoulder. “I assure you of my appreciation, butperhaps you’d better let me do my own fighting.”

Jack was thinking, too—he was thinking of the tripacross the continent, when Frank Merriwell had stood byhim for all of his peevishness and ill temper. Then Jackhad become so disagreeable that the others of the partywould have been glad to rid themselves of him, but Merryhad been patient to a most remarkable degree, for all thathe seemed to be the butt of Diamond’s anger on everyoccasion.

When it was all over Jack could look back with calmnessat those things, he began to realize what kind of afriend he had in Frank, and it aroused in the heart of thechivalrous Virginian a feeling of affection that positivelywas without bounds. No danger could be appallingenough to keep Jack Diamond from Frank’s side.

It was in moments of danger when Diamond showed hisaffection for Frank. At other times he seemed rather cold[Pg 211]and undemonstrative. He was quite unlike Harry Rattleton,who, in everything and at all times, showed his highregard for Merry.

It is pretty certain that Bruce Browning was no lessFrank’s friend, but it was very seldom that he showed itso that his friendship was conspicuous to anyone butMerriwell himself.

Frank understood Browning, and he knew full wellhow loyal the big fellow was. He knew that no other personwould have induced Bruce to train down and get incondition to play baseball. The giant had done that forMerry, for all that he was so lazy it seemed the mostfrightful punishment that could be inflicted on him.

Now Frank’s friends ranged themselves by his side.They showed by their looks and words that nothing couldmake them believe he would do a crooked thing.

“You can fight your own doing, Merry—I mean doyour own fighting,” spluttered Rattleton; “but I’m goingto say it’s a mighty mean trick for anybody to put up inorder to get square for the joke you worked on us.”

“If it was done for that purpose,” put in Diamond;“but I don’t believe it was.”

“Oh, I don’t wish to think it was done for any otherpurpose,” came quickly from Merriwell’s lips. “I knowsome fellows in college do not like me, but I do not wishto think they would be dirty enough to try to make meout a thief.”

“That would be mean,” said Gooch, mildly.

“Well, you don’t think he stole your watch, do you,Sid?” demanded Creighton.

“Of course not,” answered Gooch, with a smirk. “Oh,of course not!”

The way he said those words caused Diamond to clinchhis hands and grate his teeth together. At that momentJack longed to knock Sidney down.

[Pg 212]

“Well, Merry,” said Charlie, “you can rest assured thatnobody here will ever think you tried to steal the watch.”

“Just the same,” came from Frank, “I would give somethingto have it explained how the watch came in mypocket.”

“Perhaps that will be explained sometime.”

“This is the proper time.”

“Say, fellows,” called one of the freshmen, “are we goingto let this business break up the fun? We were gettinggood and jolly when——”

There was a rush of feet outside, and Silas Blossomcame bursting into the room.

“Fellows,” he said, excitedly; “you had better make asneak, and you must get out by the back way.”

“What is it?” asked several. “What’s the matter?”

“Is it another faculty scare?” demanded Nash.

“No, but the faculty has a spy who is piping us off.”

“Is that it?”

“Sure.”

“Who is the spy?”

“Rudge.”

“The proctor?”

“Yes.”

“Where is he?”

“In front of the house, keeping watch of the door. Heis taking down the names of everybody who comes in orgoes out.”

“And there isn’t a doubt but he will report us if he seesus,” said Frank. “What business has he on York Street?It strikes me it would be a good time to give Mr. DigbyRudge a lesson.”

“What sort of a lesson?”

“Oh, one that he will not forget—one that will cause[Pg 213]him to attend to his business in the future and let thingsoutside the college grounds and buildings alone.”

“We are with you, Merry,” declared several. “What isyour little game?”

Then Frank proceeded to unfold his plan.

YOUNG KIDNAPERS.

Back of Mrs. Henderson’s house was a yard that wassurrounded by a high board fence. Over this fence severaldark figures were cautiously making their way, havingleft the house by the back door.

Frank was in the lead, and he carried a blanket he hadtaken from the room of one of the freshmen. The blankethad been donated “for the good of the cause” by the enthusiasticfreshman who had listened to Frank’s scheme,which was now being carried out.

Having climbed to the top of the fence, aided by othersbehind, Merriwell let himself down by his hands on theother side and dropped. Then he picked up the blanket,which was in a closely rolled bundle, that had been flungover in advance, and whistled a low signal to the others.

They followed him in turn, their blood warm at thethought of the danger and the adventure before them.They were Diamond, Rattleton, Browning and Griswold,making five in the entire party.

Others had begged to take part in the adventure, butMerriwell had declared that five was the greatest numberthat could work to advantage without danger of attractingattention.

Browning groaned as he clambered to the top of thefence and hung balanced there.

“The fellow who follows Merriwell wants to take out alife insurance,” he hoarsely whispered.

Then, with some difficulty, he let himself down anddropped heavily to the ground.

[Pg 215]

When all were over, Frank led them from the yard, andsoon they were on the street.

“Griswold,” said Frank, “make a hustle for a cab, andbring it to the corner nearest Mrs. Henderson’s. If you arenot lively, we’ll be there ahead of you.”

“O. K.,” said Danny. “I won’t be more than a year.”

Away he scudded.

“Now,” said Frank, “if Rudge is where Blossom said,we’ll have him inside of fifteen minutes. Come on.”

They followed him, and soon he led them round intoYork Street.

Opposite Mrs. Henderson’s house was a tree with wide-spreadingbranches. Beneath that tree was a deep shadow,where the electric lights did not reach.

The boys took the opposite side of the street and walkedalong by twos as if they were on their way to their roomsand happened to come that way. From their manner noone would have suspected they had lately come from Mrs.Henderson’s, or that they were looking for the spyingproctor.

Frank and Jack were in advance. Their hats weretipped down over their eyes, for they did not wish Rudgeto recognize them before they could use the blanket.

As they approached the tree they could see a dark figurethat was hugging the trunk. That dark figure almostseemed to be a part of the tree.

“There he is!” whispered Jack.

“’Sh!” cautioned Merry.

It was plain enough that the man under the tree wishedto escape observation, for he remained perfectly motionlesswhere the shadows were thickest.

Frank and Jack walked along as if they meant to passhim. When they were directly beneath the tree, Merriwellsuddenly made a pantherish sidelong leap.

Open fluttered the blanket, and in a moment it was[Pg 216]wrapped about the head and shoulders of the spying proctor.

Jack sprang to Merriwell’s aid, and, despite the man’sstruggles, he was helpless before Rattleton and Browningcame running to the spot, eager to help.

The proctor had uttered a smothered cry and thenfought fiercely, but Merriwell hoarsely growled:

“Be silent if you value your life! We are desperatemen.”

When Browning placed his hands on the proctor hehandled the man as if he were taking charge of an infant.

“Move lively!” whispered Frank. “If we arecaught——”

All knew what that meant. To be caught in this meantexpulsion from the college.

“Look!” palpitated Harry, pointing along the street.“See there! Some one is coming!”

“Where?”

“Right there! Coming this way!”

A figure was seen hurrying toward them, and, as itpassed beneath an electric light, Merriwell whispered:

“Prof. Babbitt himself.”

This talk was made so low that the half-smothered proctorcould not understand a word, although he was awarethat something had alarmed his captors. He made anothereffort to struggle.

“Keep still!” growled Browning, like a huge mastiff,and he held the man easily.

Prof. Babbitt suddenly stopped. It seemed that he sawthe dark forms beneath the tree. He peered sharply atthem, and then, with surprising suddenness, whirled aboutand hastened away.

Frank chuckled.

“Thought he had made a mistake,” he softly whispered.“Thought the proctor could not be here as long as[Pg 217]he could see more than one fellow beneath this tree.Didn’t want us to recognize him. See how he is crossingthe street to keep from passing directly under that light.”

“The old sinner!” came from Harry. “I wish we hadhim instead of this fellow!”

“We’ve seen enough to know that Babbitt put the proctorup to this job,” declared Diamond.

“Well, now is our time to get out,” said Bruce.

“Sure,” nodded Frank.

The big fellow picked up the proctor and carried himalong with ease, refusing assistance from any of the others.Frank took the lead, and they hastened toward the cornerwhere Griswold was to bring the cab.

Before that corner was reached a cab rattled up andstopped.

“Gris is there!” said Frank, with satisfaction.

Then he stopped short, quickly adding:

“So is a cop!”

“How do you know?” asked Harry, in great agitation.

“Saw him pass by the light of the side lamp. There—therehe goes!”

They saw the policeman cross the street and disappear,walking along slowly.

“Wheeji*z!” gurgled Rattleton. “That was a closeshave!”

Again they went forward.

Frank whistled a soft signal, and Griswold whistledback. Danny was standing beside the open cab door asthe daring young kidnapers came up.

“All right?” asked Frank.

“O. K.,” Griswold assured in his curt way. “Cop justwent along, but he’s gone now.”

“Gone!” hissed Diamond. “Not much! Look—there heis! He is coming back!”

“Thunder and guns!”

[Pg 218]

“Blue blazes!”

“Lively, fellows!”

They attempted to bundle the captured proctor into thecab, but he had caught enough of their words to knowthey were in danger of detection, and he fought as savagelyas he could, crying out in a muffled voice for help.

“Hang him!” growled Browning. “He’ll get us allnipped!”

“Better drop him and make a run for it!” flutteredHarry.

“The cop sees something is wrong!” palpitated Jack.“He’s coming in a hurry!”

This was true, and the kidnapers were in great peril.

RECKLESS DARING.

“In!”

Browning growled the word.

“Chuck him!”

Rattleton hissed the exclamation.

“Lively!”

Merriwell gave the command.

Flop—thump! The half-smothered proctor was flunginto the cab.

“After him!”

The words came from Frank.

In went Browning on top of the proctor. Diamond followedhim with alacrity, and Griswold scrambled in instantly,then Rattleton forced himself in without delay.

Slam—the door shut.

The policeman had seen something of the struggle, andhe broke into a run.

“Hold on there!” he cried.

“Can’t stop!” panted Frank.

A spring took Merriwell up beside the driver. Beforethat person could say a word he had snatched the reinsand whip.

Crack!—the whip fell on the backs of the astonishedhorses.

Unfortunately, the animals were headed toward the approachingofficer. They leaped forward.

“Stop!” cried the policeman, springing from the sidewalkto the street.

“Couldn’t think of it!” flung back Merry. “Get out ofthe road!”

[Pg 220]

The officer waved his club, and then, seeing the horseswere snorting beneath the blows of the whip and badlyfrightened, he attempted to catch them by the bits. Hemade a miscalculation, slipped and fell.

Frank Merriwell’s heart leaped into his mouth, for itseemed that the wheels of the cab must go over the policeman.With all his skill it did not seem possible Merrycould avoid the man’s fallen body.

He reined sharply to the right, hearing a cry of horrorbreak from the lips of the driver. He bent to the left andlooked down, although he was nearly flung from the seat.

What Frank saw brought a prayer of thankfulness andrelief from his pale lips.

The policeman was not slow to realize his peril, andhe rolled over once, getting far enough out of the way sothat the wheels did not pass over him, although theybrushed his clothes.

“All right!” laughed Frank, with a great burst of relief.“Close call, old chap; but a miss is as good as a mile.”

It was one of the desperate adventures of Frank’s life,as he well knew, for to be caught and stopped then meantcertain disgrace and expulsion for all connected with theaffair. Frank had realized this as soon as the policemanstarted toward them, and for that reason he had made thehustle of his life to get away with the kidnaped proctor.

On leaped the horses.

The driver began to demur.

“What in blazes does this mean?” he demanded. “Whyare you snatching the reins from my hands? I can driveme own cab.”

“Steady, my friend,” said Frank. “I haven’t a doubtof it, but the case was desperate. Keep cool and it willbe all right. Just give me the pleasure of driving, and itwill be an extra ten dollars in your pocket.”

[Pg 221]

Ten dollars! That meant something to the driver, butstill he was afraid, as well as angry.

“I don’t care about gettin’ into no scrape with thecops,” he said. “What kind of business are you chapsup to?”

“It’s all right, don’t let that worry you. If that copdoesn’t catch us, you won’t get into any trouble. Listen!There goes his call for aid!”

“Are you a student?” asked the driver.

“Sure.”

“Hazin’ some feller, I reckon?”

“You are a good guesser, old man.”

The driver was relieved. If it was no more than acase of hazing, it was not so very serious. More than oncehis cab had been hired to assist students in some hazingscheme.

“But I’ll take the reins,” he said, as he took them fromFrank’s hand; “and I want to warn you not ter snatch’em from me again. If you do—well, something will hityou hard. As it was, I came near throwin’ you off. Would,too, if I hadn’t been so scared for fear you’d run downthe cop.”

“Then it was a good thing for me you were scared,”laughed Frank, who seemed remarkably at his ease nowthat the danger of the moment was over.

He turned to look back.

“Cop is running after us,” he said. “Turn to the rightat the next corner. Hope he won’t stir up any chap whowill try to stop us. We can’t afford to be stopped now.”

“You student chaps are a fast gang,” said the driver,and Frank could not tell if the man’s voice expressed admirationor contempt.

“Oh, I don’t know!” said Merry, easily. “I presumewe are pretty rapid.”

The cab was rattling over the stones at such a pace that[Pg 222]talking was not easy, so they dropped it here for a time.Few words passed between them save when Frank gavethe driver directions.

It seemed possible the policeman had been injured somewhatby his fall, for he did not pursue them far, for theydid not encounter another officer.

Finally they approached the river and the railroadswhich cross the drawbridge.

Frank had been there before, and he remembered hisexperience on that occasion with some amusem*nt.

“The water is warmer now than it was then,” hethought; “and we’ll give the proctor what I did not get—agenuine ducking.”

He told the driver to stop, paid him well, as agreed,and then sprang down and opened the door for the othersto get out.

Diamond, Rattleton and Griswold sprang out hastily,and then Browning passed out the captive, being himselfthe last to step to the ground.

“Shall I wait for you, young gentlemen?” asked thedriver, with great politeness, as he was feeling in a softenedmood since receiving his money.

“No,” answered Frank. “We shall not want youagain.”

Although he was ready to wait if wanted, it seemed toafford the driver some relief to be able to depart at once.

“Them chaps may be initiatin’ the chap they’ve caughtto some secret order, or they may be hazin’ him,” mutteredthe driver, when he was on his way from the vicinity.“Either thing is bad enough, and I don’t want to bemixed in it. Nobody can tell what’ll happen.”

It is true that a few accidents have happened to studentsin New Haven. Sometimes those students were beinghazed, sometimes they were being initiated into asecret order. In the old days of the freshmen societies,[Pg 223]Sigma Ep, Gamma Nu and Delta Kappa, there were farmore accidents than happen now that the faculty standby the decree that abolished everything in the form of arecognized society for freshmen.

The “old grad.” mourns the death of the old customsand tells with pride of the “hot times” that took place inthe “good old days.” He insists that Yale society is degeneratingand becoming insipid. In his time there werea hundred pitched battles where now there is one mildskirmish. In those days freshmen fought freshmen forthe possession of a new arrival, and when the “candidate”was captured he was run through a wild and horribleinitiation ceremony that left his nerves in a shattered conditionand his entire system in a state of collapse. Sometimesthe reckless freshmen carried this too far, with theresult that the candidate received an injury of more orless seriousness. One or two injured victims “peached”on the whole business, and the outside world was shockedand horrified. It seemed to the ignorant that a state ofsemi-barbarism existed there at Yale, and the effect ofthis belief was felt by those who had the best interest of thecollege at heart.

Then the freshmen societies were abolished. There evenhas been talk of abolishing the sophom*ore societies, but itis not at all probable that this will happen.

Of the leading junior and senior societies little isactually known, save that they exist and have quaint, curiousand handsome society houses. A member never talksabout the society to which he belongs. The pin which hewears in its proper place tells that he is a member, and nomore than that can he reveal to an outsider. This badgeis supposed never to leave his person, even during a bath,at which time he must hold it in his mouth. If you askhim questions, he will receive them in absolute silence.

These societies have never brought censure on the college[Pg 224]by carelessness or recklessness. Of them all Skulland Bones is the richest and most respected. Every yearit takes in fifteen men from the incoming senior class, andhe is not a Yale man who would prefer any scholarshiphonors or prizes to membership in “Old Bonesy.” Theones chosen for membership stand head and shouldersabove the rest of the class in distinction, literary, scholastic,athletic, social or otherwise.

The other two top-notch societies are Scroll and Keyand Wolf’s Head. “Keys” is rated next to “Bones,” andWolf’s Head comes third in order. Instances are not unknownwhere a man unnoticed by “Bones” or “Keys” hasrefused to join Wolf’s Head.

It was generally believed in Yale that Merriwell wassure of making “Bones.”

When the daring kidnapers had removed their captivefrom the cab and the driver had driven away, Frank produceda stout piece of rope. This was small, but seemedstrong enough to support the weight of a man.

“Here,” whispered Frank, motioning to Harry, “tie itabout his waist, and make it fast. Be sure of that.”

Rattleton obeyed hurriedly.

“Now, fellows,” came in a whisper from Merriwell, “wehave no time to waste. He must be nearly smothered.We’ll souse him, release the blanket and get away. Wecan do it here in the darkness without the least danger thathe will recognize us.”

There was a sudden movement beneath the blanket,which was fiercely flung aside, and the hoarse voice of theproctor uttered a cry for help.

Swift though the movements of the proctor were, FrankMerriwell was quite as quick. He caught the blanket andagain drew it about the head of the man, hissing:

“Tie his hands, fellows! Make them fast this time!”

The proctor’s cry had been cut short and smothered.[Pg 225]He had a short battle, but his spirit seemed broken, andhe easily succumbed, his hands being tied behind his back.

“Wheeji*z!” panted Harry, looking round fearfully.“S’pose anybody heard him?”

“Not likely,” said Diamond.

“Can’t tell,” admitted Frank.

“Let’s get the job over in a hurry,” urged Griswold,who seemed to be growing nervous and apprehensive.

Then they made the proctor march blindly onto thebridge. Frank held fast to the rope that was tied about theman’s waist.

They came to a halt at last. On the bridge below alight gleamed brightly. They were in the shadow.

“Are you ready, fellows?” asked Browning, as he tookhold of the captive.

“Get onto the line here,” ordered Merriwell, and Diamond,Rattleton and Griswold took hold at once.

The water gurgled below with a sound similar to thatonce heard by Frank in the throat of a drowning man.Somehow a cold chill crept over Merry, and of a suddenhe felt like backing out. It was true that he had no lovefor the proctor, who was something of a sneak and thereforecordially disliked by most of the students, but Frankbelieved in giving a man a fair opportunity to fight forhimself, and Rudge had been given no such opportunitythis night.

But for the fact that it would have seemed cowardly toback out at this stage of the game, Frank would haveabandoned the whole project then and there. He was aperson who seldom felt presentiments, but now a warningof coming evil seemed to oppress him. All his life he hadobserved that first impulses and first impressions werebest, and now it seemed that something bade him stop atthis point and wash his hands of the affair.

Frank refused to heed this warning.

[Pg 226]

“Come,” whispered Diamond, “what are you waitingfor, Merry?”

“Nothing.”

Again the water gurgled chokingly. The shadow wasdeep down there below the bridge. Distant lights madeglimmering streaks like wavering pencil marks upon thebosom of the river.

Frank looked down. For a single instant his imaginationpictured a dark form floating on the water.

“We can’t stay here long,” said Bruce. “It must benear time for a train.”

“Ready!”

The word came from Merriwell’s throat, but it washusky, and he choked a bit. He was angry at himself andgave himself a savage shake.

The captive seemed to realize that something unpleasantwas before him, and he shrank back.

“In with him!”

Bruce lifted the proctor in his strong arms and droppedhim into the river.

“Hold fast!”

Splash!—the man struck the water.

“Ha! ha!” laughed Danny Griswold. “Bet that wasa shock for his nerves!”

Somehow his laughter sounded hollow and ghastly.

“Pull in!”

Just as the word was given Danny Griswold uttered alow cry of warning:

“Look, fellows! Somebody is coming toward the bridge!See—right over there!”

They looked in the direction indicated, and dark formswere seen approaching.

“It won’t do to be caught!” cried Frank. “Pull inlively, fellows! We must have Rudge out in a minute!”

[Pg 227]

Pull they did in the greatest haste. The proctor waslifted from the water, and then——

Snap—splash!

The rope seemed to part, and down went the boys whowere pulling. There was a splash as the body of the helplessproctor fell back into the river!

Frank started to scramble up, but some one caught holdof him and dragged him back in an effort to rise first.

“Let go!” he grated. “The proctor is in the river, andhe will drown if some one does not pull him out in ahurry!”

“Right!” came from Rattleton. “Oh, murder! whatan awful scrape! What if Rudge should drown?”

“We would be murderers!” quavered Griswold.

“Those fellows are coming!” sibilated Diamond, as hegot upon his feet. “Jove, fellows, they are police! Weare pinched if we do not run for it!”

“Can’t run!” came firmly from Frank, as he alsoscrambled to his feet. “Got to get Rudge out of the riverat any cost!”

“It means disgrace, expulsion, shame if we are caught!”fluttered Diamond.

“It means murder if we do not save the proctor!”came back from Frank, as he tore off his coat.

“What are you going to do?” hoarsely demandedBrowning.

“Pull Rudge out or go to the bottom with him!” wasthe retort.

“Stop!” Bruce caught Frank by the shoulder. “Youare mad!”

“Let go, Bruce Browning!” said Frank, swiftly. “Youare my friend, and you will have no one but yourself toblame for what follows if you do not let go!”

“I’m not going to see you drown yourself, Merriwell!Go slow!”

[Pg 228]

“This is no time to go slow. Last warning, Browning!Let go!”

Bruce did not obey.

Smack! Frank Merriwell’s fist struck Browning fairlybetween the eyes. The big fellow was not prepared forthe blow, and it dropped him instantly.

Then Frank turned and plunged headlong from thebridge into the dark Quinnepiac River!

THE HORRORS OF REMORSE.

“He’s gone!”

Diamond panted the exclamation as he leaned over andlooked down.

“Here are the cops! Run!”

This warning came from Rattleton, who snatched upFrank’s coat and took to his heels. Bruce rose quickly,assisted by Griswold, and, seeing the dark forms approaching,he also hastened from the bridge.

Griswold caught hold of Diamond and dragged himfrom the edge, crying in his ear:

“Merry is all right. He can swim like a fish. Wecan’t stay to be nipped by the cops. We must get awayand find a boat. That is the best way to help him.”

The Virginian realized instantly that this was true, andhe followed the little fellow from the bridge.

In the meantime, Frank had struck the water and wasswimming about, searching for the unfortunate proctor.It was dark down there under the bridge, and he could seenothing of the man.

“Heavens!” gasped Frank. “With his hands tied behindhim, and that blanket over his head, Rudge musthave sunk like a stone! He is drowned, and we are hismurderers!”

The thought made Merry sick at heart. Never beforein all his life had anything given him such a feeling. Hesaw himself, a wretched, guilty creature, with the bloodof a fellow being on his hands. For an instant he thoughtof the just retribution that must follow the awful crime,[Pg 230]but that thought was banished in his agony over the unfortunatedeath of the helpless man.

Frank heard voices above on the bridge, and seemedto realize that some one was looking down at the surfaceof the river, but he could not spend a moment to look up,for in that moment Rudge might rise to the surface andsink again.

He fought against the current for some moments, andthen permitted it to carry him along, realizing that it mustcarry a helpless man in the same direction.

Frank prayed. He fancied his whole life being blightedin one moment by this reckless lark. He forgot that theman for whose salvation he was praying had been almostuniversally despised by the students. He forgot thatDigby Rudge was a spy, a tattle-tale, a sneak and a manufacturerof trouble unmentionable for the students. Heremembered that Rudge was a human being, and thatwas quite enough.

The water gurgled with the same choking sound thathad been a warning to him—a warning to which he hadpaid no heed. For a moment his nerve seemed desertinghim, and he longed to scream—to shriek for help.

He was angry with the current, and, almost as heprayed for the life of Digby Rudge, he cursed the strengthof the water, for he felt that it had dragged the helplessproctor down—down.

A train came rushing along and passed over the bridge.Then he realized that the current had carried him a longdistance away, and the despair that was crushing hisheart grew stronger.

“Rudge! Rudge!”

Twice he cried out the name of the proctor. It waswhen the train was yet on the bridge, and then he realizedthat with the water-soaked blanket over his head the mancould not answer if he heard.

[Pg 231]

But he felt that the ears of Digby Rudge were foreverdeaf to the sound of a human voice. By this time thedeadly water had done its work, and the man was murdered.

Then Frank thought how four living persons besideshimself had been ruined by this wild prank that had endedin a tragedy. The lives of the four fellows who had assistedin carrying out the scheme had been blighted.

“I am the one who is all to blame,” he told himself. “Itwas my plan. I’ll swear to that. I did the most of thework—I’ll swear to that. Perhaps it will help them.”

His mind worked strangely then, for he felt a twingeat one thought. He would make a clean breast of it—afull confession. He would try to lift as much of the burdenas possible from the shoulders of the fellows withhim; but he knew it would be regarded as bravado on hispart. The finger of scorn would be pointed at him, andthe newspapers would tell how he gloried in the deed.That thought hurt him.

“It will be part of my punishment,” he reasoned. “Ishall deserve it all!”

Never before in all his life had Frank felt like a criminal,and the sensation was new to him. It was far moreterrible to his sensitive nature than anything else couldbe. It filled him with repulsion for himself.

He did not try to make any excuses to himself by sayingit was an accident. He felt that there could not bean excuse, for he had been warned by his feelings at atime when he could have stopped short of the act whichbrought about the tragedy.

When he remembered how he had felt, and how he hadfailed to stop then and there and set the proctor at libertyfor all of anything his companions might say, he scornedhimself as a coward. He was sure he had done one cowardlyact, and this was what it had brought him to.

[Pg 232]

These thoughts raced through his mind as he floated onthe surface of the river, trying to see something of theman who had been cast from the bridge. Farther andfarther the current bore him, and still he peered acrossthe dark bosom of the river in vain.

“It is ended!” he gasped. “Rudge is at the bottom—deadbefore this!”

Then he realized that his clothing was soaked, his feetfelt like lead, and the current seemed trying to drag himdown.

“It would be an easy way to end it all!” was the madthought that came to him. “Then they could not pointat me with scorn. My friends would tell how I died tryingto save the life of the proctor.”

The temptation was powerful upon him—it was almostirresistible. How easy it would be to fold his hands uponhis breast, stop struggling and sink. It would wipe outthe stain in a measure.

Then came the thought that it would be cowardly toend his life there in the river to escape. He would beabandoning his friends to their fate. They would liveand be punished. If he lived, he might save them in ameasure by telling the truth. That would be the onlymanly thing to do.

He was doubly ashamed of himself because he hadalmost yielded to the temptation to do another cowardlything. Never had he dreamed that he could feel so meanand contemptible.

He started to swim toward the shore, but now he foundthat the current was strong, and he had been in the waterso long that he was nearly exhausted. His clothes wereheavy, and the shoes on his feet seemed made of lead.

With all his strength he struck out. He would notgive up. It was not for his own life he was struggling[Pg 233]now, but he was determined to live and do all he could totake the blame of this terrible affair on his own shoulders.

With his teeth set, he battled against the strength of thestream that tried to sweep him on. He fought his waytoward the shore, but his progress was slow.

Clank—clank!

He looked up the river at the sound. Between him anda distant light that was reflected on the water shot a blackobject.

It was a boat containing three persons.

“Merriwell—where are you?”

It was Jack Diamond’s voice!

“Here—this way!”

Weakly Frank answered. Not till he tried to cry outdid he realize how very far gone he was. Then it seemedthat, but for his friends who were coming to his rescue,there was not one chance in a hundred to reach the shore.

They turned the boat toward him, but it did not seemthat they could see him, for they called again and again.He answered and held his own against the current till theyreached him. Strong hands reached down and graspedhim, following which he was pulled over the bow and intothe boat, where he dropped, quite beat out.

Diamond was bending over him.

“The proctor, where is he?”

“Heaven knows!” answered Frank, with a heart-breakingsob. “He is drowned, and I am to blame for it all!”

“Not by a blamed sight!” came vehemently from thelips of the Virginian. “You are not the only one toblame! We are all to blame!”

“That’s so,” said the voice of Harry Rattleton.

“Merriwell was the one who originated the scheme,”said Danny Griswold. “If it hadn’t been for him——”

A grating exclamation broke from Diamond’s lips.

“Don’t play the coward now, Gris!” he snarled. “Shoulder[Pg 234]your part of the blame! You are in it, just the sameas the rest of us.”

Then, in gloomy silence, they pulled back against thestream to the place where they had found the boat. ThereBrowning was waiting for them. He questioned themeagerly, fearfully, but their silence was the answer he hadfeared.

Half an hour later they were far from the spot, sittingin the back room of a certain student’s resort. Frank hademptied the water from his shoes, and now he was dryinghis trousers. He had drawn on his coat over his wetclothes.

Very few words passed between them. Griswold wasfrightened, Browning was dejected, Rattleton was desperate,and Diamond was defiant. Frank seemed to bethinking deeply.

After a long time, Bruce asked:

“What is to be done, Merry?”

“Leave everything to me,” said Frank.

“We should form some sort of a story,” faltered Griswold.“We should swear the proctor broke away from usand rushed into the river himself. Of course, he couldnot see, for the blanket was over his head, and so he didnot realize his danger. We should swear we tried to savehim. We should——”

“We should lie at every breath if we told anything ofthe sort,” said Frank. “There is but one thing to be donenow.”

“And that is——”

“Tell the truth.”

“When?”

“In the morning. Leave it to me.”

It was useless for Griswold to urge them to manufacturea story that would relieve them somewhat of the responsibility;not the least attention was paid to him.

[Pg 235]

They left the place and started toward the college.Few words passed between them.

The college grounds were reached, and they separated,each going toward his room.

Frank had moved from old South Middle to FarnhamHall, doing so because he could not find accommodationsin the old building for all his furniture and bric-a-brac.

Now he approached Farnham with his head down. Itwas dark, but, as he came near, he saw some person wassitting on the steps, smoking.

“Wonder who is out here at this time of night?”thought Frank. “Some fellow must have insomnia.”

He reached the steps. Then the person who had beensitting there stood up and peered into his face.

“Hello, Merriwell!” exclaimed a triumphant, malignantvoice. “I thought it was you. Been out rather late,haven’t you?”

Frank staggered as if he had been struck a heavy blowin the face.

The voice was that of Digby Rudge, the proctor!

JOYFUL NEWS.

Frank came near shouting his astonishment. At firsthe scarcely could believe the evidence of his senses.

The proctor—alive—uninjured—there! The proctor,whom he had believed drowned and at the bottom of theQuinnepiac River! It seemed a miracle.

For a moment it seemed to Frank that it could not betrue. How was it possible?

The man seemed to understand Merriwell’s agitation,for he laughed exultantly. That laugh did more thananything else to bring Frank to himself.

“So you are surprised to see me here!” sneered theproctor. “Why are you so surprised? Is there any reasonwhy you did not expect to see me, sir?”

Frank became remarkably cool in a moment. Hisheart was overflowing with gratitude and thankfulness,but he realized that he was in frightful danger—dangerof disgrace and dismissal from college. A short timebefore he would have thought that nothing to be comparedwith the just punishment that menaced him, butnow the proctor was alive, and it was different.

More than that, there was something in the manner ofthe man that aroused Merriwell. Frank realized that theproctor was thirsting for revenge, and he was just thesort of man who would not hesitate at anything to obtainit.

Had Digby Rudge met Frank in a different manner,had he not shown his fierce hatred in his words and hisvoice, Merry might have betrayed himself by an expressionof his thankfulness to learn that the man still lived.

[Pg 237]

In some marvelous manner the man had escaped drowning,and now he would do his best to be revenged uponthe lads who had ducked him in the river.

“Good-evening, Mr. Rudge,” came with amazing coolnessfrom Frank’s lips. “You gave me quite a start, forI was not noticing, and you rose up so quickly beforeme.”

“Oh, was that it?” sneered Rudge.

“Yes,” laughed Frank. “As a rule, I am not easilystartled, but——”

“Some things that have happened to-night made younervous, eh? Well, you will be more nervous before I amthrough with you. I’ll see that you are disgraced anddriven from college, sir! I tell you this to your face.”

So that was the proctor’s game. He knew Rudgewould not hesitate at anything to make good his threat.

“All right,” said Frank, quietly. “Go ahead. But itseems to me you are not as crafty as usual, or you wouldnot give me this warning. Now I shall be on the watchfor you.”

“I’ll fix you, just the same!” vowed the man.

“All right; go ahead. Good-night, Mr. Rudge. Pleasantdreams!”

Frank ran up the steps and disappeared, leaving theproctor to fume with fury.

In his room Frank knelt down and uttered a thankfulprayer, for a great load was lifted from his soul. Hefelt that the adventure of that night had taught him alesson that he could never forget. Then he rememberedthe temptation that had assailed him while he was in thewater. When he remembered all his thoughts and despair,he believed he had been “tried as by fire,” and it seemedthat he had come forth from the trial better in every way.Experience had been his teacher that night, and the lessonwas wrought upon his brain in lines of fire. It would[Pg 238]live there as long as life lasted. In the future it wouldserve as a blazing warning to hold him in check wheneverhe was tempted to do anything in the least unmanly.

The load had been lifted from his soul, but he rememberedthat there were four fellows who still were torturedby the belief that they had aided in cutting short the lifeof a human being. It was his duty to carry the joyfulnews to them and relieve their feelings as soon as possible.

He waited till he felt sure the proctor had departedfrom the steps, and then he slipped down and out into thecool night air again. How grateful that air was to himnow! How sweet it seemed! He drew it in by deepdraughts, as if it were wine. For the time he forgot theperil that menaced him—he forgot the shadow of disgracethat hovered over him.

From room to room Frank went, bearing the joyfulnews, which seemed far too good for belief. BruceBrowning gasped, and dropped down in a limp heapwhen he heard it, Danny Griswold came near crying forjoy. Jack Diamond laughed, and Harry Rattletondanced. All were for sneaking out again and makinga night of it, but Frank would not agree to join them.He had not stopped to get out of his wet clothes, and hefelt that he had made quite enough of that night.

Merry returned to his room, stripped, and took a rub-downwith a coarse towel. That put him in a glow. Heopened his window and looked out upon the dark and desertedcampus before jumping into bed.

“A little while ago I never dreamed I could be happyagain,” he thought; “now my heart is bursting with happiness.Poor old Rudge! I do not wonder that he hatesme. Let him get his revenge if he can. I shall be wellsatisfied to defend myself as far as possible, and I shallmake no effort to strike back.”

HOW THE PROCTOR ESCAPED.

Rat-tat-tat!

Some one was knocking on Frank Merriwell’s door.The knocking awakened Merry, who had been sleepingsoundly, and he arose and admitted Harry Rattleton.

“What’s the matter, Rattles?” Frank asked. “Whyare you turning a fellow out at this unearthly hour?”

“How can you sleep after all that happened last night?”cried the visitor.

“Didn’t you sleep?”

“Not a wink. I tried to, but it was no go. I keptdreaming the most horrible things all about murder andbloodshed!”

“That was pleasant.”

“Nit. Did you sleep?”

“Like a top.”

“Confound you!” exclaimed Rattleton, as if provoked.“I believe you could sleep under any circ*mstances.”

“I hardly think I should have slept had not the proctorturned up all right. That relieved my mind.”

“It did mine for a time, but, after thinking the thingall over, I got into a stew pretty nearly as bad as before.”

“How was that?”

“Why, I thought the whole thing out, and I can seethe whole crowd of us is dead sure of being expelled.”

“Think so?”

“Sure of it.”

“Oh, I don’t know!”

“I do.”

“What makes you so sure of it?”

[Pg 240]

“The proctor knows us.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Remember how he snatched the blanket from his headon the bridge?”

“Yes, and I remember that it was wrapped about hishead again before he could recognize a soul in the darkness.I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

“I’ll go you something he did recognize us. If not, whywas he stepping on the smokes—I mean smoking on thesteps, and waiting for you to appear? He was watchingfor you.”

“That may be, and still he may not be sure I was oneof the crowd. He suspected me, but suspicion is no proof.Even if he suspected me, it is improbable that he knowsthe others of the party. Don’t let this matter tear you allup the back, Rattles. I believe I am the only one of theparty that Rudge knows for sure. I may get it in theneck, but the rest of you will escape.”

“There’s heaps of consolation in that!” exclaimedHarry, dolefully. “If you get it in the neck, the rest of usdeserve it. If you are disgraced, I shall feel like a sneakif I do not confess my share in it and take my medicine.”

Frank came close to Harry, placing his hands on Rattleton’sshoulders, and looking him in the eyes.

“That shows your heart is all right, Rattles,” he said,with deep feeling; “but it would be a foolish thing foryou to do. However, I think you are borrowing trouble.It is likely that there will be a charge against me, but Iam going to laugh at it, and I doubt if Rudge can bringany proof.”

“Unless some fellow blows—some enemy of yours.”

“No fellow will dare do that.”

“Why not?”

“Such an act would brand him as a sneak.”

“It might not become publicly known who blowed.”

[Pg 241]

“It would be, for if any fellow told on us, he wouldhave to go before the faculty. That would let it out. Oh,I do not believe I have an enemy in college who woulddare do such a thing, for he would know it must bringabout his social ruin the minute he did it.”

Frank was so confident on this point, that, after a time,he relieved Rattleton’s feelings somewhat, and Harry departedin a much better frame of mind than he had beenwhen he rapped on Merry’s door.

Frank took a cold dip and went out for a walk beforechapel. Diamond seemed to be waiting for him to appear,and they took the walk together.

Frank told Jack of Harry’s call and fears, and theVirginian confessed that he had not slept very well himself.From what he said, Merry saw that Diamond didnot fear for himself, but felt certain that Frank was indanger.

“Although I do not know why, I am sure the proctorhas never liked you, Merry,” said Jack.

“That’s all right enough,” smiled Frank. “He tried abit of blackmail on me when I first came to college. Itdid not go, and he has hated me ever since.”

“Well, it is pretty sure he will make charges againstyou. What are you going to do? What sort of a storywill you tell?”

“If I tell anything, it will be the truth.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Then I shall keep still.”

“Silence in such a case will be regarded as confession.”

“I can’t help that. It will be the only course left forme.”

It was plain that Diamond feared not a little for Frank’ssafety.

Merry could see this, but the relief from the torturingthoughts when he believed the proctor had been drowned[Pg 242]was enough to make him comparatively lighthearted andhopeful.

For the time all thoughts of the unpleasant scene thattook place when Billings drew Gooch’s watch from Merry’spocket were banished from Frank’s mind.

Gooch was in Farnham Hall. He was a fellow whomade quite a spread and tried hard to be popular, withvery poor success.

It was reported that Gooch lived far beyond his allowance.Certain it was that there were times when Sidneywas frightfully “hard up.” He borrowed right and leftof anybody and everybody who would lend him anything.

Within a few weeks of the time concerning which I amwriting a number of robberies had been committed in thedormitories. Students had lost rings, pins, watches andmoney. The thief was crafty, for thus far he had escapeddetection.

At the time that Sidney’s watch was found in his pocketFrank had realized that such a discovery must throwsuspicion on him with those who did not know him wellenough to be thoroughly convinced of his absolute honesty.

Now, however, there was something else to think about,and he forgot that.

To Frank’s astonishment, the day after the adventurewith the proctor passed quietly, and he was not summonedbefore the faculty.

“It must come to-morrow,” he thought.

But another day passed, and still things went on as ifnothing had happened.

Among the students it was known that Prof. Babbitthad tried to find out just who had taken part in the YorkStreet “racket.” He had obtained the names of a fewwho were present, but he could not seem to discover theidentity of the ringleaders. His spy had been kidnaped[Pg 243]and dragged away just in time to keep him from accomplishinghis purpose.

The mystery of the proctor’s escape from the riverremained a mystery till, one day, as Rattleton was descendingthe stairs, after paying Frank a visit, a conversationbetween Gooch and Billings was overheard.

Harry paused and listened. It was plain Billings hadcome to see Gooch, and found him in the lower hall.

“We could cook Merriwell if we came out and told allwe know,” said the freshman. “That is just the evidenceRudge wants to prove that Merriwell was the leader ofthe attack on him. It would ruin the fellow’s collegecareer.”

“But we can’t peach,” declared Gooch. “It would bethe end of our college careers, too, for we’d be run out ofYale by the fellows who think Merriwell the only pebbleon the beach. We’ve got to keep still and find some otherway of getting at the chap we hate.”

“It’s too bad to lose such an opportunity!” exclaimedBillings. “I have it straight that Rudge was nearlydrowned. The rope broke when they tried to pull him out.He had twisted his hands free, and that was all that savedhim. He tore the blanket from his head, swam under thebridge, and clung to a pier till he was strong enough sohe could get out.”

“Jingoes!” exclaimed Gooch. “The case could be madeto look like an attempt to murder Rudge.”

“Sure.”

“Well, we will think this matter over some. If we knowof an absolute attempt at murder, it may be our duty totell the truth about it.”

“That’s the talk!” cried Billings, gleefully.

FRANK’S ENEMIES.

Rattleton’s blood was boiling.

“I am not much of a fighter,” he muttered; “but I amgoing down there and punch the faces off those dirtydogs!”

As he started to resume the descent of the stairs, Goochand Billings left the building. Harry went down on theleap. When he reached the door the two rascals werewalking away.

Rattleton saw Browning passing at a little distance.Immediately he made a rush for Bruce, and told him allhe had heard.

Then the big fellow was aroused.

“Let’s have a little talk with Mr. Gooch and Mr. Billings,”said Bruce, grimly. “It is possible we may be ableto persuade them to keep their mouths shut.”

They hastened after Gooch and the freshman, Browningactually hurrying for once in his life.

“Hold on, you chaps!” called Bruce.

The cry was heard. Gooch and Billings turned andlooked about. Then they seemed on the point of takingto their heels, but did not do so.

Browning and Rattleton came up.

“We want to talk to you,” said Bruce, surlily.

For some reason neither of the fellows seemed to careabout talking, but they could not get away, and in a veryfew minutes they heard some straight talk from Bruce.

“If either of you blow on Merriwell,” said the big fellow,with such fierceness that both were astounded andappalled, “I’ll take particular pains to see that you aretarred and feathered and ridden on a rail. You will not[Pg 245]be tolerated in Yale. I swear to hound you out of collegein less than two weeks, and I’ll be aided by a hundredothers. That is business, and it is straight from theshoulder.”

Both Gooch and Billings protested that they had not theleast idea of exposing Merriwell.

“That’s all right,” said Browning, grimly. “Rattletonheard enough to know you might do it. If Merry is exposed,I shall know you did it, no matter how well youcover your tracks, and that will mean the end of yourcollege life in this city. I’m not going to say any more.I have said enough. If you are not fools, you will goslow.”

Then Bruce and Harry walked away, and Gooch andhis freshman chum were left to their thoughts, whichwere anything but pleasant.

“Confound him!” muttered Billings. “He would keephis word!”

“Sure,” nodded Gooch, with something like a whimperin his voice. “I wouldn’t dare tell anything about Merriwellnow, even if I knew I would be protected by thefaculty.”

“Oh, this Merriwell has such beastly luck!” snarledBillings. “Now, if the fool of a proctor had drowned inthe river——”

“That would have been great!” chuckled Gooch, fiendishly.“Then we would have been forced to tell, andMerriwell and his gang of pals would have gone to prison.Why didn’t the proctor drown!”

“Well, I guess we may as well drop it. There is acharmed circle about Frank Merriwell, and no harm cancome to him.”

“I’m not so sure of that,” said Sidney, showing hiswhite teeth. “There may be a way to cover him with disgrace.”

[Pg 246]

“The fellows seem to have forgotten the watch incident.”

“They have not. When something else in the sameline comes up, they will remember it. Poor Harris was agood fellow, but Merriwell hounded him from college.The tables will turn at last. Before summer vacation youwill see Frank Merriwell driven in disgrace from Yale.”

“You may think so, but I doubt it.”

“Wait,” said Sidney. “I am not going to blow on Merriwell,but there may be another way to pull him downfrom his lofty position.”

As Browning and Rattleton were walking away, thelatter looked back and saw Gooch and Billings talkingexcitedly.

“I reckon we have settled them,” said the big fellow.

“Hope so,” nodded Harry. “Say, old man, I have anidea.”

“Name it.”

“I have thought of something since I saw those chapstogether and heard them talking.”

“What?”

“You remember how Gooch lost his watch the othernight?”

“Yes.”

“And Billings, who seemed to be pretty full, took it outof Frank Merriwell’s pocket?”

“Yes.”

“Both of those fellows hate Merry. They are somewhatchummy, and they are mean enough for anything.So I think——”

“That it was a put-up job between Gooch and Billings.That Billings made believe to take the lost watch fromMerriwell’s pocket. That it was an attempt to make thefellows suspect that Frank stole the watch.”

“Exactly.”

[Pg 247]

Bruce stopped.

“Bet you are right!” he growled. “I’m going back andsay a few more things to those chaps. If we were somewhereelse, I’d knock them both down.”

Harry urged Browning not to go back, for he sawBruce was fearfully angry, and he realized that the bigfellow might forget he was on the campus and strikeGooch or Billings.

They went to see Frank, and told him what Rattletonhad heard. Merry looked grave and concerned, but hedid not display the least anger.

“Hang it!” growled the big student. “Why don’t youget mad?”

“What’s the use?” said Merriwell. “I pity thosechaps.”

“What?” shouted Browning and Rattleton, together.

“Yes,” said Frank, “I pity them. They hate me, andthey suffer tortures because I have many friends and ampopular. Since the adventure of the other night I havelearned to be more tolerant with everybody, for I see howeasy it is to get on the wrong track and go to the bad.To a certain extent, Gooch and Billings are not responsiblefor their nature. They make themselves wretched. I amglad you silenced them, and all I ask is that they keepstill. If they will let me alone, I’ll not trouble them.”

“And you will be soft with them if they do not let youalone,” growled Bruce. “I hope your experience of theother night is not going to make you worse than ever thatway.”

As the days passed, Frank felt safer and safer. He sawthe proctor sometimes, but, as a rule, Rudge pretendednot to notice Merriwell.

One day they came face to face. For a single instantsomething like a smile came across Merry’s face. The[Pg 248]proctor saw it, and it seemed to arouse his anger, for heexclaimed:

“I know what you are laughing about! It came nearbeing no laughing affair! Some day, Frank Merriwell, Iwill get even with you for that!”

“Sorry to know you hold a grudge against me,” saidFrank; “but I am glad to have one of my enemies comeout boldly and declare himself.”

The proctor passed on without another word.

THE THIEF IS CAUGHT.

Frank was calling on Paul Pierson when Harry Rattletonburst into the room like a whirlwind.

“Quick, Merry!” he cried. “The pickens is to-day—Imean, the dickens is to pay!”

“What’s up?” asked Frank, springing to his feet.

“Come on, and I will tell you. Got to move quick.Come along, Pierson. Don’t waste a moment.”

Out of the room hustled Harry, with the others at hisheels.

Pierson’s room in Farnham was on the same floor withMerriwell. Now Rattleton led the way straight towardFrank’s room.

As they came in sight of Frank’s door it swung open,and, with the stealth of a cat, Sidney Gooch slipped out.

Frank saw the fellow come out, and, with an exclamationof anger, Merry shot past Rattleton andgrabbed Gooch by the collar. Sidney gasped, turned paleand tried to break away, but Frank held fast, angrily demanding:

“What were you doing in my room?”

“Take him in again, Merry,” advised Rattleton. “Ifyou chin with him out here a score of fellows will hearit all.”

Frank instantly realized this was true, and, as Rattletonthrew open the door, he forced the trembling Goochback into the room. Pierson followed them, and Rattletonclosed the door.

“Now answer me,” said Frank, his eyes flashing fire as[Pg 250]he looked at his cowering enemy; “what were you doingin my room?”

“I—I was looking for a friend,” faltered Sidney, hismanner proclaiming the lie.

“What friend?”

“Oh—ah—Billings.”

“Billings? Well, I must say my room is a singularplace to look for Billings! That gentleman never calls onme. It won’t go down, Gooch. How did you get into myroom?”

“Why, I simply opened the door and walked in.”

“That is not true! The door was locked. I took painsto lock it when I went out, as there have been a numberof fresh robberies in this building of late.”

“Perhaps you think you took pains to lock it, but youwere mistaken. I found it unlocked.”

“You lie!” came hotly from the lips of Harry Rattleton.“I saw you unlocking the door with a key! I sawyou when you came in here. I hurried to tell Merriwell,and that is how we came to catch you. You are trapped,Gooch. It’s plain we have caught the thief.”

A crafty look came into the eyes of the captive, and hemuttered:

“Oh, I don’t know! You may think so, but you’ll soonfind out who the thief is. I was simply doing a littledetective work, and I shall appear as evidence against thereal thief.”

Frank and Harry exchanged glances.

“Search him,” advised Rattleton.

“That’s right,” nodded Pierson. “Search him.”

Gooch paled again.

“You shall not!” he cried. “I will not stand it! I protestagainst the outrage!”

“Protest and be hanged!” exploded Rattleton. “We aregoing to search you! Come on, fellows.”

[Pg 251]

“I shall shout for help! I shall scream!”

“If you do, we’ll tell whoever comes how we caughtyou in Merry’s room.”

Then they fastened on Gooch, and, despite his struggles,set about searching him.

“Ha! what are these?” cried Pierson, as he broughtforth a great bunch of keys. “Door keys! What do youwant of all these, Gooch?”

Sidney began to whimper.

“What’s this?” exclaimed Rattleton, drawing a handsomecigarette case from Gooch’s pocket. “It’s markedwith a monogram, ‘P. P.’”

“It’s mine!” cried Pierson. “It was taken from myroom within two days!”

“And what is this?” said Frank, taking a ring fromthe captive’s pocket. “That’s a queer place to carry adiamond ring.”

“Let’s look at it!” said Pierson, catching it from Frank.“By Jove! It’s Emery’s! He lost it yesterday!”

“Fellows,” said Harry, “we have the thief!”

Down on his knees Gooch dropped.

“Don’t tell on me, fellows!” he begged, shivering likea leaf. “Don’t expose me! It will ruin me! It will killmy mother! Just think what it will mean to me! I willbe disgraced for life!”

“You deserve it!” came pitilessly from Pierson. “Wecan’t keep still now.”

“And we won’t!” cried Rattleton.

Tears rained down the face of the guilty fellow.

“Don’t ruin me, boys!” he begged. “I am sorry I didit! I’ll write home to mother and confess to her. Shewill send me money to pay back everything I have taken,and I will restore every article. Right here may be theturning point of my life. You may be responsible if Ibecome a criminal! Give me one chance.”

[Pg 252]

“Gooch,” said Frank, sternly, “if we give you a chance,will you promise to turn over a new leaf? Will youpromise to make good everything you have stolen, andnever touch another thing that does not belong to you?More than that, will you agree to go personally to the fellowsyou have stolen these articles from and ask theirforgiveness as you return them? You can pledge themto secrecy. If they keep your secret, you will be safe.It’s your only chance. What do you say to it?”

“I will do anything! I will show you I am in earnestby beginning now and exposing a plot to ruin you, FrankMerriwell!”

THE SHADOW LIFTED—CONCLUSION.

Three of the professors were in consultation withDigby Rudge, the proctor. They were Babbitt, Mowerand Such.

“You say you can bring absolute proof against him?”questioned Prof. Babbitt, eagerly.

“Yes,” nodded the proctor. “I have suspected himfor some time, and now I have the proof I need.”

“I cannot believe it true,” said Prof. Such, stroking hischin. “Merriwell has always seemed like an upright andhonorable young man.”

“So he has,” nodded Prof. Mower, stroking his beard.

“Ah, you do not know him,” said Babbitt, triumphantly.“He is cunning, but I read his character arightfrom the start.”

“Prof. Babbitt,” said Such, sternly, “I believe you areprejudiced. You have seemed to have something againstMerriwell from the first, and your antipathy for him increasedwhen you failed to trap him at your special examination,which——”

Babbitt drew himself up stiffly, and made a protestinggesture.

“I scarcely thought this of you, Prof. Such,” he said,interrupting. “Even though I am aware that Merriwellis a favorite of yours, I did not think you would accuseme of permitting my prejudice to influence me againsthim.”

“You will soon see, gentlemen,” said the proctor, “thatthis is not a matter of prejudice. For some time robberieshave taken place in Farnham Hall, and——”

[Pg 254]

The door opened, and Frank Merriwell stepped into theroom.

Instantly the proctor pointed an accusing finger straightat Frank, adding:

“There, gentlemen, stands the thief!”

For a moment there was a tableau, and then Prof. Suchhastened to say:

“Your proof, Rudge—we demand your proof.”

“It is ready,” said the exultant proctor, stepping to aside door, which he flung open. “Mr. Gooch.”

Sidney Gooch entered the room. His face was nearlyas white as snow, but Frank gave him a look of encouragementwhen their eyes met, and Sidney braced up.

“Gentlemen,” said the proctor, “Mr. Gooch once had hiswatch stolen from him by this Mr. Merriwell. He haslost it again, and he can give positive evidence that FrankMerriwell has it, either about his person or concealedsomewhere in his room.”

“Is this true, Mr. Gooch?” excitedly demanded Prof.Such.

“It is not!”

Sidney spoke the words distinctly, so that no one couldmisunderstand them. The proctor was the most astoundedperson in the room. Frank smiled a bit, whileProf. Babbitt uttered an exclamation.

As soon as he could recover, the proctor excitedly cried:

“What is that, sir? Didn’t you tell me your watch hadbeen stolen again, and you knew for a certainty thatFrank Merriwell was the thief?”

“I did.”

“Then what do you mean——”

“I was mistaken,” said Sidney. “I have since foundmy watch, and I was wrong in accusing Mr. Merriwell.I ask his pardon here in the presence of you all. I do not[Pg 255]know anything against Mr. Merriwell, and I feel certainhe is not the thief.”

Prof. Such laughed shortly in a satisfied way, whileProf. Mower looked relieved.

As for the proctor, he was both astounded and disgusted.When he started to say something more, Suchinterrupted him sharply:

“Rudge, I think you had better follow Gooch’s example,and apologize to Mr. Merriwell. It is the only gracefulthing you can do.”

So the proctor was forced to apologize, although it wasa bitter pill for him to swallow.

“I trust you will hold no hard feelings against anyonefor this little mistake, Mr. Merriwell?” said Prof. Mower.

“Not in the least,” smiled Frank, his face full of sunshineand good will. “I have not been harmed, and if Ihave done anything to arouse anybody here against me,I wish to beg their pardon now, and say I am sorry. Itis all I can do.”

“Very generous—very generous for a young man whohas been accused of theft!” nodded Such.

So the plot against Frank proved a failure. His generosityin wishing to give Gooch a chance to reclaim himselfhad led Sidney to make a clean breast of everything.Gooch had been in Frank’s room for the purpose of concealingsome of the stolen articles there, where they mightbe found if the room was searched after Merry was accused.He pointed out the articles and told Frank that hewas to be summoned before three of the faculty that veryafternoon.

Together Merriwell and Gooch left the room and thebuilding. Together they walked across the campus.

“I have kept my word so far,” said Sidney, huskily.

[Pg 256]

“You have,” said Frank, “but the worst is to come. Itwill be far harder to go to the fellows from whom youhave taken things and confess to them; but right there iswhere you will prove your manhood, and it will be amighty mean fellow who will not respect you for it ifhe thinks you are going to try to turn over a new leaf.I will see each one, and do all I can to keep them still, so itwill not leak out. If we can save you from disgrace,Gooch, we will.”

It seemed that Sidney’s heart was moved by this.

“Merriwell,” he said, “you are the whitest man living!Your heart is as large as your whole body!”

Frank kept his promise to Gooch, and in the end theerring lad was given ample chance in which to redeemhimself.

And this was not all that Frank did. He sent ananonymous letter to the proctor, stating that he was sorrythe man had suffered, and that he begged to inclose apresent in consequence, said present being a beautifulgold watch charm.

This charm completely won the proctor’s heart, and fora long while after he was remarkably easy on all the collegelads.

For the time being all ran smoothly, and here we willleave Frank, hoping to meet our readers once more in anew volume of this series, entitled: “Frank Merriwell’sLoyalty,” wherein we will learn how true our hero couldbe to his chums, no matter how great the danger.

“He’s all right, Frank is,” said Bruce. “No better ladin Yale.”

“Right you are,” echoed Rattleton. “Frank is Old Eli’sfavorite son.”

And all the others agreed.

THE END.

MEDAL LIBRARYA weekly publication devoted to good literature.NO. 251
March 26, 1904.

THECobb Library

This new line, is composed exclusively of the well-knowncopyrighted works of the renowned Sylvanus Cobb,Jr. Every reader has heard of and perhaps read some ofthe works of this author, whose wonderful genius is madeso manifest in his stories.

Every book in this line has a strong plot, into whichare woven a host of adventures—the kind that makes thereader thrill with pleasurable excitement. His love situationsare most pleasing and underlying all there is a spiceof mystery that only whets the reader’s appetite and makeshim long for all the books of this gifted writer.

The first number will be “THE GUNMAKER OFMOSCOW,” one of the strongest and most pleasing piecesof popular fiction ever written. It was formerly publishedin higher priced editions and is now being offered in cheapform for the first time.

STREET & SMITH, Publishers
238 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 73850 ***