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Updated: May 1, 2025
"The Frenchman, a rather sporty young fellow named Bloodgood, a small, bespectacled man, well fitted with the name of Slush, and an Englishman by the name of Hazleton." "That's the crowd that played in the Frenchman's stateroom to-day," groaned Rattleton from his berth. "Played in the stateroom?" exclaimed Frank. "I wonder why they didn't play in the smoking-room?"
"Trim his whiskers with them." "Wind them around his neck, Frank!" cried Harry Rattleton. "You can do it!" Rattleton had the utmost confidence in his chum, and he had offered to bet that not one of the first three men up would get a safe hit off him.
Rattleton held up both hands, with a look of absolute horror on his face. "Don't don't preach now!" he protested. "I think the habit of swearing is a blessing sometimes an absolute blessing. A man can relieve his feelings that way when he can't any other." "You don't seem to have succeeded in relieving your feelings much." "I don't? Well, you should have seen me when I got aboard the train!
Billy's was reached, and one of the sophs went in with Ditson, while the others kept out of sight nearby. After a little the soph came out and reported that Merriwell and Rattleton were in there. He had treated the house, but Merriwell had absolutely declined to take anything. "Oh, yes," nodded Browning. "They say he never drinks. That's how he keeps himself in such fine condition all the time.
The spectators were greatly excited, and not a few of them declared it was the most gamey fight they had ever witnessed. The front of Diamond's shirt was stained with blood, and he presented a sorry aspect. His chest was heaving, but his uninjured eye glared with unabated fury and determination. "Will he never give up?" muttered Harry Rattleton. "He's a regular hog!
"Oh, say!" chuckled Harry Rattleton, hugging himself in delighted anticipation, "just you fellows wait a minute! Diamond will think he has been struck by an earthquake!" Bruce Browning, himself a scientific boxer, was watching every movement of the two freshmen. He turned to Puss Parker at his side and said: "Merriwell handles himself like an old professional. By Jove!
"Oh, rats!" yelled twenty voices. "Hello, Parker!" cried Little. "I hear you were held up last night? Is it true?" "Oh, yes," said Rattleton. "He'd been down to Morey's, and that was the way he got home." "But oh, what a difference in the morning," sang the freshmen. "Ask Rattleton if he means to join the Indians?" called a soph. "Or will he Sioux for damages?" put in another.
"It's a wonder he didn't prophecy shipwreck, or something of that sort," groaned Rattleton, who had settled at full length in his berth. "If this rolling motion keeps up, I shall get so I won't care if we are wrecked." "He must be a dandy in a good swift game of poker!" laughed Frank. "I shouldn't think he'd be able to make up his mind how to discard.
Despite the two yelling and dancing lads in the road, the old farmer made for the shed, and it was seen that he had a gun in his hands. "He's going to shoot somebody!" cried Harry, wildly. "We must hake a tand er take a hand in this! Come on!" With all the speed he could command Rattleton dashed after the farmer.
"That's right," nodded Rattleton. "They were laying for us. Two of them stopped me when I reached York Street. They told me to give up what I had, but I didn't have anything to give up, so they let me go." Then Frank told of his adventure with a person who looked like Professor Grant. "That's it!" cried Little. "That was their game! They were after our turkey."
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