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Updated: May 26, 2025
"Which sorter reminds me of the mule Mr. Merriwell mentioned a few minutes ago," declared Applesnack, as he turned away. Frank secured his mail and was leaving the post office, when outside the door he came face to face with Owen Clearpath, the new parson of the village church. "I'd like to have a word with you, Mr. Merriwell," said the parson; "just a word."
"Let me assure you, parson, that so far as I have the slightest knowledge, I'm positive there's not a word of truth in the statement that a ten-thousand-dollar wager has been made on the result of the baseball game to be played this afternoon." Clearpath looked relieved. "I'm glad to hear you say that," he breathed. "I decided to ask you about it.
He drew Frank aside, while Hodge waited. "I don't see how Merry keeps his patience and temper in dealing with these hide-bound yokels," muttered Bart. Clearpath seemed confused and ill at ease. He hemmed a little while Merry waited quietly for him to speak. Suddenly the young minister began, as if forcing himself with a great effort to say something he regarded as decidedly disagreeable.
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