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Gordon braced off, his hands on the table before him. Ditson laughed and went on: "Now, if we make a combine against him we can do him bad." "Wazzyer mean?" Gordon again demanded. "Mean that you repeated anything I tol' you in confidence when I was full?" "Not publicly," grinned Ditson. "I may have used it to injure Merriwell, but I was careful how I used it."
Roland Ditson attempted to argue on two or three occasions in favor of Gordon, but nobody paid attention to what he said, for it was known that he had tried by every possible means to injure Merriwell and had been exposed in a contemptible piece of treachery, so that no one cared to be known as his friend and associate.
It seemed an absolute certainty that some one of the party in Merriwell's room had gone forth and "blowed." Who had done so was a question. As was the most natural thing, considering his dislike for the fellow, Frank felt that Roll Ditson was the telltale. Of this he had no proof, however, and he was too just to openly condemn a man without proof.
Ditson looked around as if his last statement had settled the question of Browning's vast superiority over all sophomores. Morey's was the favorite resort of the students, and no freshman could enter there. It was an old frame house, with low-posted rooms, and there one could drink everything except beer. No beer could be had at Morey's. Morey's was headquarters for the Society of the Cup.
He was taken into a back room and shown a flight of stairs. "Knock at the door at the head of the flight," instructed the barkeeper, and after giving the man some money Ditson went up the stairs. "Come in!" called a harsh voice when he knocked at the door. Ditson found Kelley sitting with his feet on a table, while he smoked a strong-smelling cigar.
Still the Virginian gasped for breath and seemed unable to lift a hand. If ever a fellow seemed done up, it was Diamond just then. Roll Ditson ground his teeth in despair. "Oh, Merriwell will think he is cock of the walk now!" he muttered. "He'll crow and strut! He's laughing over it now!" "Wh-what's that?" gasped Diamond, trying to sit up.
There were illustrated sporting papers on the table, crumpled and ragged. "Well, young feller, watcher want?" demanded the man, withont removing his feet from the table or his hat from his head. Ditson closed the door. He was very pale and somewhat agitated. "Are we all alone?" he asked, choking a bit over the question. "Dat's wot we are," nodded the professor.
Who was it?" "Don't know. Some of the students, I think." "Oh, if that is the case, go down and bring him up, Ditson. You can open the door and let him in without disturbing Mrs. Harrington." "All right," nodded Roll. "Sorry you won't come out, old fel. You'll get grouchy. Good-night." "Good-night." Ditson went out, and Frank heard him descending the stairs.
If he is given a trial it will be his luck to succeed. He must not be given a trial. How can that be prevented?" Then Ditson set himself to devise some scheme to prevent Frank from obtaining a trial on the regular nine. It was not an easy thing to think of a plan that would not involve himself in some way, and he felt that it must never be known that he had anything to do with such a plot.
"Not now," she replied. "I have an engagement. Come to-morrow at this hour. I'll leave word this time," she added with a smile. "Mr. Stanton is so particular about callers that no one can get near me without being personally guaranteed by Joles or Mr. Ditson." "You haven't seen Mr. Ditson, have you? He is father's secretary. I don't like him, and I'm so sorry.
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