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"Now, that is dead right," nodded Harry, who was inclined to be generous and kindly toward the fellow who might have filled his place on the freshman crew. "I tell you that Ditson is a bad man, and I would not trust him as far as I can fling a cow by the tail." "I'll get after him at the first opportunity," promised Frank. Harry went out and had a talk with Bandy Robinson about the matter.
In the meantime Ditson was saying: "Yes, you've helped me. You know Merriwell is coaching the freshman crew or has been for the race to-morrow. Well, I don't let any chance go to get a jab at him." "I don't see what that has to do with my helping you," mumbled Gordon, vainly trying to light a cigarette with a broken match on which no brimstone was left.
Ditson will represent me." Roland Ditson pressed forward. He was a loud-voiced youth who wore loud clothes and sported a large amount of jewelry. "Name your second, Merriwell," he said in an authoritative way. "We want to settle this matter as soon as possible." Frank named Harry, and the seconds conferred together. Merriwell sat down and coolly awaited the result, with his hands in his pockets.
Wish you success, Merry, old man. Evening, fellows." Ditson departed. Our hero, Rattleton and Jones sat and looked at each other in grim silence for several minutes. "Well?" Frank broke the spell, looking keenly at Jones as he spoke. "I dunno," mumbled Dismal, falling into the manner of speaking that had been habitual with him from his childhood. "I dunno hanged if I do!"
It is a most unfortunate affair, but he insists that you fight him with rapiers." "Very well; I agree to that. Arrange the time and place with my second, Mr. Rattleton." Frank sat down, picked up an illustrated paper, and seemed deeply interested in the pictures. Ditson drew Rattleton aside. "My principal," said he, swelling with importance, "demands that this meeting take place at once."
Right under my own roof!" muttered Stanton, "and with her! Oh, God!" "I rang for him, father," said Hélène, looking at him anxiously. "It's Ditson I want to see. Ditson, Ditson! not Joles." Then he added quickly, "No, I don't want to see any one! I'm better now; these attacks pass away quickly. Sit down, my dear child; I want to talk to you.
Whenever Ditson would approach a group of lads and try to get in a few words he would be listened to in stony silence for some moments, and then the entire crowd would turn and walk away, without replying to his remarks or speaking to him at all. This would have driven a fellow less sensitive than Ditson to abandon all hope of going through Yale.
"I know it," was Ditson's surprising confession, "and that's why I dropped in here. I wanted to tell Merriwell about it." Jones gasped for breath. He was too surprised to speak for some minutes. Ditson took out a package of cigarettes, offering them first to Harry, who shook his head. "What?" cried Roll, amazed. "You won't smoke?" "No." "What's that mean?"
Ditson went along with them as if he was a sophomore. He seemed to feel himself highly honored, but Browning had hard work to choke back his absolute contempt for the fellow. As they went along, it was arranged that Ditson should go into Billy's and see if Merriwell was there. One of the sophomores should accompany him.
"Think so?" "Oh, I am dead sure of it." "Thank you." Merriwell yawned again. "Oh, come on!" Ditson urged. "You're stupid from digging over those books. Come out and have a walk." "No." "You won't?" "You'll have to excuse me to-night, Ditson." "All right. But say, I came near forgetting something. As I came in, there was a fellow down to the door who said he wanted to see you." "A fellow?
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