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diff --git a/old/63024-0.txt b/old/63024-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index d7e7060..0000000 --- a/old/63024-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10790 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's Dick Merriwell's Fighting Chance, by Burt L. Standish - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Dick Merriwell's Fighting Chance - The Split in the Varsity - -Author: Burt L. Standish - -Release Date: August 23, 2020 [EBook #63024] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DICK MERRIWELL'S FIGHTING CHANCE *** - - - - -Produced by David Edwards, Barry Abrahamsen, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - BOOKS FOR YOUNG MEN - - MERRIWELL SERIES - - ALL BY BURT L. STANDISH - - Stories of Frank and Dick Merriwell - - Fascinating Stories of Athletics - -A half million enthusiastic followers of the Merriwell brothers will -attest the unfailing interest and wholesomeness of these adventures of -two lads of high ideals, who play fair with themselves, as well as with -the rest of the world. - -These stories are rich in fun and thrills in all branches of sports and -athletics. They are extremely high in moral tone, and cannot fail to be -of immense benefit to every boy who reads them. - -They have the splendid quality of firing a boy’s ambition to become a -good athlete, in order that he may develop into a strong, vigorous, -right-thinking man. - - - ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT - - 1—Frank Merriwell’s School Days - 2—Frank Merriwell’s Chums - 3—Frank Merriwell’s Foes - 4—Frank Merriwell’s Trip West - 5—Frank Merriwell Down South - 6—Frank Merriwell’s Bravery - 7—Frank Merriwell’s Hunting Tour - 8—Frank Merriwell in Europe - 9—Frank Merriwell at Yale - 10—Frank Merriwell’s Sports Afield - 11—Frank Merriwell’s Races - 12—Frank Merriwell’s Party - 13—Frank Merriwell’s Bicycle Tour - 14—Frank Merriwell’s Courage - 15—Frank Merriwell’s Daring - 16—Frank Merriwell’s Alarm - 17—Frank Merriwell’s Athletes - 18—Frank Merriwell’s Skill - 19—Frank Merriwell’s Champions - 20—Frank Merriwell’s Return to Yale - 21—Frank Merriwell’s Secret - 22—Frank Merriwell’s Danger - 23—Frank Merriwell’s Loyalty - 24—Frank Merriwell in Camp - 25—Frank Merriwell’s Vacation - 26—Frank Merriwell’s Cruise - 27—Frank Merriwell’s Chase - 28—Frank Merriwell in Maine - 29—Frank Merriwell’s Struggle - 30—Frank Merriwell’s First Job - 31—Frank Merriwell’s Opportunity - 32—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Luck - 33—Frank Merriwell’s Protégé - 34—Frank Merriwell on the Road - 35—Frank Merriwell’s Own Company - 36—Frank Merriwell’s Fame - 37—Frank Merriwell’s College Chums - 38—Frank Merriwell’s Problem - 39—Frank Merriwell’s Fortune - 40—Frank Merriwell’s New Comedian - 41—Frank Merriwell’s Prosperity - 42—Frank Merriwell’s Stage Hit - 43—Frank Merriwell’s Great Scheme - 44—Frank Merriwell in England - 45—Frank Merriwell on the Boulevards - 46—Frank Merriwell’s Duel - 47—Frank Merriwell’s Double Shot - 48—Frank Merriwell’s Baseball Victories - 49—Frank Merriwell’s Confidence - 50—Frank Merriwell’s Auto - 51—Frank Merriwell’s Fun - 52—Frank Merriwell’s Generosity - 53—Frank Merriwell’s Tricks - 54—Frank Merriwell’s Temptation - 55—Frank Merriwell on Top - 56—Frank Merriwell’s Luck - 57—Frank Merriwell’s Mascot - 58—Frank Merriwell’s Reward - 59—Frank Merriwell’s Phantom - 60—Frank Merriwell’s Faith - 61—Frank Merriwell’s Victories - 62—Frank Merriwell’s Iron Nerve - 63—Frank Merriwell in Kentucky - 64—Frank Merriwell’s Power - 65—Frank Merriwell’s Shrewdness - 66—Frank Merriwell’s Setback - 67—Frank Merriwell’s Search - 68—Frank Merriwell’s Club - 69—Frank Merriwell’s Trust - 70—Frank Merriwell’s False Friend - 71—Frank Merriwell’s Strong Arm - 72—Frank Merriwell as Coach - 73—Frank Merriwell’s Brother - 74—Frank Merriwell’s Marvel - 75—Frank Merriwell’s Support - 76—Dick Merriwell at Fardale - 77—Dick Merriwell’s Glory - 78—Dick Merriwell’s Promise - 79—Dick Merriwell’s Rescue - 80—Dick Merriwell’s Narrow Escape - 81—Dick Merriwell’s Racket - 82—Dick Merriwell’s Revenge - 83—Dick Merriwell’s Ruse - 84—Dick Merriwell’s Delivery - 85—Dick Merriwell’s Wonders - 86—Frank Merriwell’s Honor - 87—Dick Merriwell’s Diamond - 88—Frank Merriwell’s Winners - 89—Dick Merriwell’s Dash - 90—Dick Merriwell’s Ability - 91—Dick Merriwell’s Trap - 92—Dick Merriwell’s Defense - 93—Dick Merriwell’s Model - 94—Dick Merriwell’s Mystery - 95—Frank Merriwell’s Backers - 96—Dick Merriwell’s Backstop - 97—Dick Merriwell’s Western Mission - 98—Frank Merriwell’s Rescue - 99—Frank Merriwell’s Encounter - 100—Dick Merriwell’s Marked Money - 101—Frank Merriwell’s Nomads - 102—Dick Merriwell on the Gridiron - 103—Dick Merriwell’s Disguise - 104—Dick Merriwell’s Test - 105—Frank Merriwell’s Trump Card - 106—Frank Merriwell’s Strategy - 107—Frank Merriwell’s Triumph - 108—Dick Merriwell’s Grit - 109—Dick Merriwell’s Assurance - 110—Dick Merriwell’s Long Slide - 111—Frank Merriwell’s Rough Deal - 112—Dick Merriwell’s Threat - 113—Dick Merriwell’s Persistence - 114—Dick Merriwell’s Day - 115—Frank Merriwell’s Peril - 116—Dick Merriwell’s Downfall - 117—Frank Merriwell’s Pursuit - 118—Dick Merriwell Abroad - 119—Frank Merriwell in the Rockies - 120—Dick Merriwell’s Pranks - 121—Frank Merriwell’s Pride - 122—Frank Merriwell’s Challengers - 123—Frank Merriwell’s Endurance - 124—Dick Merriwell’s Cleverness - 125—Frank Merriwell’s Marriage - 126—Dick Merriwell, the Wizard - 127—Dick Merriwell’s Stroke - 128—Dick Merriwell’s Return - 129—Dick Merriwell’s Resource - 130—Dick Merriwell’s Five - 131—Frank Merriwell’s Tigers - 132—Dick Merriwell’s Polo Team - 133—Frank Merriwell’s Pupils - 134—Frank Merriwell’s New Boy - 135—Dick Merriwell’s Home Run - 136—Dick Merriwell’s Dare - 137—Frank Merriwell’s Son - 138—Dick Merriwell’s Team Mate - 139—Frank Merriwell’s Leaguers - 140—Frank Merriwell’s Happy Camp - 141—Dick Merriwell’s Influence - 142—Dick Merriwell, Freshman - 143—Dick Merriwell’s Staying Power - 144—Dick Merriwell’s Joke - 145—Frank Merriwell’s Talisman - 146—Frank Merriwell’s Horse - 147—Dick Merriwell’s Regret - 148—Dick Merriwell’s Magnetism - 149—Dick Merriwell’s Backers - 150—Dick Merriwell’s Best Work - 151—Dick Merriwell’s Distrust - 152—Dick Merriwell’s Debt - 153—Dick Merriwell’s Mastery - 154—Dick Merriwell Adrift - 155—Frank Merriwell’s Worst Boy - 156—Dick Merriwell’s Close Call - 157—Frank Merriwell’s Air Voyage - 158—Dick Merriwell’s Black Star - 159—Frank Merriwell in Wall Street - 160—Frank Merriwell Facing His Foes - 161—Dick Merriwell’s Stanchness - 162—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Case - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - Dick Merriwell’s Fighting Chance - - OR - - THE SPLIT IN THE VARSITY - - - - - By - BURT L. STANDISH - Author of the famous Merriwell stories. - - -[Illustration] - - - STREET & SMITH CORPORATION - PUBLISHERS - 79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - - - Copyright, 1910 - By STREET & SMITH - ———— - Dick Merriwell’s Fighting Chance - - - - - - - All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign - languages, including the Scandinavian. - - Printed in the U. S. A. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - DICK MERRIWELL’S FIGHTING CHANCE. - - --- - - - - - CHAPTER I - - A GATHERING IN DURFEE. - - -The comfortable sitting room in Durfee Hall, occupied by Dick Merriwell -and his Texas chum, Brad Buckhart, was filled to overflowing. Sprawling -among the cushions of the divan was Rudolph Rose, handsome, -high-spirited, and rather quick-tempered, but happy in the knowledge -that he had at last conquered the latter failing and thereby won a place -in Merriwell’s friendship. - -Close beside him was Terry Baxter, quiet, almost too serious, but with a -keen sense of humor which showed in the appreciative gleam in his brown -eyes and the occasional terse, pithy remarks which he uttered in a -solemn manner, but which invariably sent the others into an uproar. - -Eric Fitzgerald, slim, slight, and curly haired, dangled his legs from -one end of the table. He was so full of vim and life and go that he -reminded one of a particle of quicksilver, forever on the move; and on -the rare occasions when he did settle down for a moment, he usually -perched himself somewhere in a temporary manner, as if he were only -pausing for an instant before making another flight. - -Samp Elwell, the Hoosier, whose dry wit was a source of never-ending -delight to his friends, occupied the piano stool. Across the room sat -his chum, Lance Fair, who was not nearly so unsophisticated as his -smooth, rosy cheeks and almost girlish manner would lead one to imagine. - -Buckhart was hunched down on the back of his neck in one of the big -easy-chairs near the table, while Merriwell himself was tilted back -against the wall in the desk chair, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth -and a smile curving the corners of his sensitive mouth. - -“You fellows ought to have been in Pierson’s classroom this morning,” he -remarked. “After the lecture he started in to quiz us, and happened to -spy Hollister gazing dreamily out of the window. I suppose Bob was -thinking out some new football stunt. Anyway, he was miles away from -Roman history, and Pierson caught him. - -“‘Mr. Hollister,’ he said, in that short, snappy way he has, ‘can you -mention one memorable date in Roman history?’ - -“Bob came out of his trance with a jump and snapped back without -thinking, ‘Anthony’s with Cleopatra, sir.’ It brought down the house.” - -There was a shout of delighted laughter, and when it had died down Samp -Elwell looked up, grinning. - -“He did,” chimed in Fitzgerald from the table. “Piercy was mad as -thunder. It isn’t the first time Bob’s flunked by a long shot, either. -He’s been awful punky this term.” - -“I’d like to have seen old Pierson’s face,” he chuckled. “I reckon Bob -drew a goose egg for that.” - -“Too much football, I opine,” growled the Texan. “He can’t get his mind -off the game long enough to feed his face, let alone keep track of -lectures. He’s plumb locoed about it. You hear me gently warble!” - -“Oh, say,” Elwell spoke up suddenly; “how about that new stunt of old -Bill’s. That forward——” - -The Texan straightened up like a flash, and, grabbing a book from the -table, shied it with swiftness and remarkable accuracy at the Hoosier’s -head. Elwell ducked, and the book struck the piano, falling to the -keyboard with a discordant crash. - -“What in time——” began the indignant sophomore, straightening up again. - -“You don’t seem to recollect what I tried to drill into that solid ivory -skull of yours a brief time back,” Buckhart drawled with perfect -composure. “Talking shop has got to be cut out around this bunk house. -I’m plumb sick of hearing about football. For six weeks I’ve heard -nothing else, and now that Tempest is back on the job I’m going to take -a rest.” - -“Great Scott, Brad!” Rose exclaimed aghast. “You’re not going to leave -the team!” - -“Thunderation, no!” the Texan retorted. “I’ll hold down my job till the -cows come home; but off the field I’m going to forget it and take a -whack at the books I have hardly got a squint at since the term began. -So, unless you gents want to start a row promiscuous like, kindly -refrain from holding forth on the subject while I’m around.” - -“Say, fellows, isn’t it pretty near time we organized a little fishing -party up to the lake?” asked Fitzgerald. - -Trout fishing was one of his pet hobbies. - -“Any trout there?” inquired Fair quickly. - -“Thousands of ’em,” returned Fitz. - -“Will they bite easily?” asked Lance. - -“Will they?” exclaimed the slim chap. “Well, I should say they would! -Why, they’re absolutely vicious. A man has to hide behind a tree to bait -his hook.” - -“It wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Dick remarked. “We haven’t gone on a trip -like that this fall. Say, Samp, why don’t you take a comfortable chair? -You’ve been holding down that piano stool all evening, and you know you -can’t play a note.” - -The Hoosier winked significantly and cast a meaning glance at -Fitzgerald, one of whose many accomplishments was the singing of popular -ditties to improvised accompaniments consisting of a more or less -skillful variation of two chords. - -“I know that,” Elwell returned composedly, “but neither can any one else -while I’m here.” - -Fitz instantly took up the gantlet. - -“Talk about hogs!” he exclaimed, springing from his seat on the table. -“And here I am fairly bursting with a perfectly punk song I just learned -this afternoon. Avaunt, creature!” - -He made a dive at Elwell, and, before the stalwart Hoosier realized what -was happening, the piano stool was deftly upset and he sprawled on the -floor. By the time he had scrambled to his feet, the slim chap was -seated calmly at the keyboard and had struck an opening chord. - -“Come into the garden, Maud,” he began dramatically. He got no farther. -A united yell of protest arose which effectually drowned him out. - -“Oh, what a chestnut!” - -“Noah sang that to the animals in the ark!” - -“Give us something that’s not more than two thousand years old!” - -Fitz turned slowly around, a look of pained surprise on his freckled -face. - -“Peace, prithee—peace!” he chided. “I assure you that the song is quite -new, save the first line, which may be a little reminiscent. Kindly -refrain from any more rude, vulgar interruptions.” - -Before the others could recover their breath he struck the chords and -began to sing again, this time rather hurriedly: - - “Come into the garden, Maud”; - But Maud was much too wise. - ‘Oh, no,’ said she, ‘the corn has ears - And the potatoes eyes.’ - -His voice, dwelling lingeringly and fondly on the last note, was drowned -in a shout of laughter. - -“Great!” choked Buckhart. “Maud was a wise child, all right.” - -“Give us another verse, old fellow,” chuckled Elwell. - -“I’m afraid I’m not in very good voice to-night,” simpered Fitz, looking -coyly down at the keys. “Such a critical audience always makes me so -nervous. However——” - -He lifted his voice again in the same serious chant. - - “The rain it falls upon the just, - And also on the unjust fellers; - But chiefly on the just, because - The unjust have the justs’ umbrellers.” - -This verse was received with equal applause, and Fitz was entreated to -give them another. - -“Sing another song,” urged Rose. “You must know a pile of them.” - -“Well, I’ll give you a very short one,” the slim chap returned with much -apparent reluctance. “It’s a little old, but you mustn’t mind a thing -like that.” - -Striking a single chord, he began the first line. - - “Mary had a little——” - -He paused, and, clearing his throat, glanced around at his audience, -plainly surprised that there had been no interruption. Having been -caught once, however, the fellows were not going to repeat the -performance, and remained expectantly silent. - -Seeing that he could not get a rise out of them, Fitzgerald turned back -to the piano and began the song over again. - - “Mary had a little skirt - Tied tightly in a bow, - And everywhere that Mary went - She simply couldn’t go.” - -“That’s all,” he announced, springing up and skipping over to the table -again. “Somebody else can do parlor tricks now.” - -Before any one had a chance to reply, the door was opened rather -unceremoniously, and a tall, curly haired, sun-burned fellow, with an -attractive face and the figure of an athlete, entered composedly, and -closed the door behind him. - -From the uproarious nature of the greeting he received, it was quite -evident that he was a general favorite. - -“Hello, Bob!” - -“Come in and rest your face and hands.” - -“How about Anthony’s date with Cleopatra?” - -Bob Hollister grinned a little sheepishly. - -“Heard about that, have you?” he inquired, as he dropped down on a -chair. “I suppose that’ll be rubbed into me for the next six months. -What the deuce did I know about Roman history? I was doping out a new -around-the-end combination.” - -“Sh! Careful!” cautioned Elwell, with upraised finger. - -Hollister looked bewildered. - -“What’s the matter?” he asked quickly. - -“No football talk,” returned the Hoosier, with a grin. “Our esteemed, -ex-temporary captain objects to it in the sacred privacy of his -apartment.” - -“Well, I’ll be hanged!” gasped Hollister. “Not talk about football! What -in the mischief else is there to talk about?” - -Dick smiled. - -“You have got it bad, Bob,” he remarked. “Don’t you ever think about -anything else?” - -Hollister shook his head. - -“Hardly ever,” he confessed. “I couldn’t keep it out of my head if I -tried, with the big game so close. Why, I even wake up in the middle of -the night wondering how to work certain combinations, or thinking up -some new way of getting the ball through their line. I haven’t had time -to open a book in weeks.” - -He gave a sudden start, and, diving down into one pocket, drew out a -rather crumpled envelope. - -“Just look at that,” he remarked, tossing it over to Dick. - -Merriwell caught it and extracted a square, printed slip, which proved -to be one of the warning notices sent out from the dean’s office when a -student has fallen behind the required grade in any particular study. - -“A warning in Latin,” he said thoughtfully. “You must have been pretty -rotten lately, Bob. Goodhue is one of the easiest profs in college.” - -“I have flunked a bunch of times,” Hollister confessed. “And that isn’t -all, either. Got one in German day before yesterday. I suppose Schlemmer -got on his ear after the mess I made of Heine last week.” - -“You want to look out, Bobby,” Fitzgerald put in lightly. “After this -morning, you’re due for still another. Dear old Piercy was purple when -you made that cute remark about Anthony’s date. I’ll bet he hot-footed -to the dean the minute the class was over.” - -“And three warnings means a general one,” supplemented Elwell. “By -hocus, Bobby! You’ll have to do a little cramming, or you’ll have the -whole faculty down on your neck.” - -“They are now!” Hollister burst out petulantly. “I believe it’s a put-up -job. Every one of them takes a special delight in getting me up every -chance they can and making a monkey out of me. They ought to know I -don’t have any chance to grind right in the middle of the football -season. But what do they care about football! A lot of dried-up fossils! -They don’t give a rap whether we’re licked or not. I don’t believe the -biggest part of ’em even see one game a season.” - -“You’re wrong there, Bob,” Dick put in quietly. “Some of the profs are -daffy about the game. The dean wouldn’t miss one for any amount of -money.” - -“Yes, and old Piercy is the worst of the lot,” chimed in Fitzgerald. -“You ought to have seen him Saturday—standing up on the bench, his hat -off, hair rumpled, and eyes popping out of his head, waving his arms -like a windmill, and yelling like a fiend. He’s a good old sport, even -if he does like to catch a fellow napping in the classroom.” - -The clock struck ten, and the sound had scarcely died away when Buckhart -threw out his arms and yawned, loudly and ostentatiously. - -“Humph!” remarked Fitzgerald tartly. “Why don’t you tell us plainly that -it’s time to go home?” - -“I was waiting to see if you wouldn’t wake up to the fact yourselves,” -the Texan returned tranquilly. - -The slim chap eyed him mischievously. - -“I’ve a good mind to stay here just to spite you,” he said presently. - -Buckhart yawned again. - -“Stay right along, if you like, little one,” he drawled. “That wouldn’t -bother me a whole lot. In about ten minutes I’m going to hit the pillow; -but if you gents want to sit here for the rest of the night chinning, -you’ve sure got my permission.” - -Most of the other fellows were about ready to turn in themselves, and -there was a general movement toward the door. Hollister got up with the -rest, and then glanced hesitatingly toward Merriwell. - -“Got a couple of minutes to spare, Dick?” he asked, in a low tone. - -“Sure thing,” Merriwell returned quickly. “Sit down and I’ll be with you -in a minute.” - -Hollister dropped back onto his chair, and Dick followed the others to -the door. With a chorus of good nights, they trooped out in a body and -clattered downstairs. Then Merriwell came back into the room and resumed -his seat, while Buckhart made tracks for the bedroom. - -“You gents will have to excuse me,” he mumbled. “Can’t keep my blinkers -propped open another minute. Good night.” - -Without waiting for their response, he disappeared, and the next moment -the sound of shoes being thrown to the floor was heard, followed with -amazing swiftness by the creak of springs as the Texan crawled into bed. - -“Gee! I wish I could do that,” Hollister murmured. - -Dick raised his eyebrows inquiringly. - -“Go to sleep the minute I hit the pillow,” Hollister explained. “I toss -around for an hour or more, thinking about all kinds of things. Seems as -if I could think better at night when everything’s quiet and there’s no -one to disturb me.” - -“Football, I suppose?” Dick questioned, looking at him thoughtfully. - -Hollister nodded. - -“Yes, but that wasn’t what I wanted to talk to you about,” he said -quickly. “It’s these confounded warnings. I never got one of them before -this fall.” - -His tone was almost angry. - -“As I remember,” Dick remarked, “you never used to have any trouble -keeping up in your studies, but still had plenty of time for almost -anything in the line of athletics you wanted to do.” - -A frown corrugated Hollister’s forehead. - -“Exactly,” he returned. “It looks to me as if the profs did the thing on -purpose just to worry me when they ought to know I’ve got to give all my -time to football. It’s a rotten shame!” - -Dick did not answer for a moment. - -“I hardly think that’s it, Bob,” he said presently. “There wouldn’t be -any object in their doing that. I don’t believe they like giving a -fellow’s name to the dean. I know Goodhue doesn’t, for he’s told me so. -He doesn’t have a man warned until it’s absolutely necessary. No, I’m -afraid the trouble is altogether with you. You don’t bone enough.” - -Hollister smiled wryly. - -“I don’t grind at all,” he said quickly. “Somehow, there doesn’t seem to -be any time.” - -Dick smiled. - -“Shucks! You’ve got as much time as the rest of us. Somehow we manage to -make a passable showing.” - -Hollister flushed a little. - -“I suppose I have got the time,” he said slowly, “but I can’t seem to -make use of it. The minute I sit down with a book, my mind flies off to -the field as regular as clockwork, and before I know it it’s time to -turn in, and I haven’t done an earthly thing with the Latin or math, or -whatever it may be; but very likely I’ve thought out some corking new -formation or trick play.” - -“I see,” Dick said quietly; “but what good does it all do?” - -“Good!” exclaimed Hollister, in surprise. “Why, I put the idea up to -Tempest or Fullerton, and often they can make use of it.” - -“Of course I know that,” Dick returned. “There isn’t a fellow on the -team who has a better, broader conception of the strategy of the game; -but you’re not in college just to play football and let everything else -go to smash. That sounds sort of priggish, I know, but it’s really the -truth. What you’ve got to do is to put it out of your mind the moment -you leave the field. If you don’t, Bob, you’ll be plucked as sure as -fate. - -“Brad has realized that, and you know there isn’t a fellow in college -who thinks more of the game. But while he was taking Tempest’s place as -captain, he just about dropped everything else and got frightfully -behind in his work. Since Don came back last week, Brad has been doing -his best not to think of football except on the field, and he’s done -such a lot of hard grinding that he’s beginning to catch up.” - -“That’s what I ought to do, of course,” Hollister agreed. “But I don’t -see how I can, Dick. I start in, really intending to study, but somehow, -I never get anywhere.” - -“That’s all nonsense,” Dick said emphatically. “You can do it if you -really make up your mind to. Great Scott, man! You don’t want to develop -into a fellow with just one idea, do you? If you keep on this way, you -won’t be able to think of another earthly thing but football. And if you -don’t take a brace in your real work, you’re more than likely to be -dropped. Then where would you be?” - -Hollister’s face had grown very serious. He seemed to realize for the -first time the gravity of the situation and the end toward which he was -rapidly drifting. Somehow it had never occurred to him that there was a -possibility of being dropped. If that should happen, what earthly good -would his ability to play football be to him? It was not a pleasant -thought. - -“I expect you’re right, old man,” he said slowly, with a rather futile -attempt at a smile. “Looks as if I’d have to take a big brace before -something drops. It’s going to be a hard pull, though.” - -“Of course, it will be hard, Bob,” Dick said earnestly, “but you’ve got -to do it. Just make up your mind that you positively won’t give the game -a thought off the field. Banish it entirely from your mind, and take a -fresh spurt with the books. Then I think you’ll come out all right.” - -Hollister arose slowly. - -“That’s what I’ll do,” he said quickly; “at least, that’s what I’ll try -to do.” - -“Don’t say try,” Merriwell put in swiftly. “Don’t let there be a doubt -in your mind of your ability to succeed, and I think you’ll make good.” - -“Right you are,” Hollister smiled. “I’ll start in to-morrow morning. I’m -awfully obliged, Dick, for your advice. I didn’t seem to realize before -how serious a fix I was in, but I’ll pull up now, and I think things -will come around in good shape.” - -“Of course, they will,” Merriwell answered heartily. “See you to-morrow, -old fellow. Good night.” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER II - - THE THIRD WARNING. - - -Bob Hollister played right end on the varsity, and was one of the most -valuable men on the team. He was remarkably speedy, quite equaling the -Indian, Joe Crowfoot; absolutely tireless, with the added advantage of -having played the game ever since his prep school days, so he was -familiar with every phase of it. - -No matter in what apparently direful straits the team might be, Bob -never gave up hope. Not until the final whistle blew, announcing that -the game was finished, would he acknowledge that he was beaten, and his -cheery optimism always had an inspiring effect on the discouraged -members of the team, more than once being the means of pulling them out -of the slough of despondency and changing defeat into victory. - -Perhaps more than anything else, the quality which made him valuable was -the fact that he never lost his head. No matter what might be happening, -Bob Hollister could always be depended on to use his brains. And not -only did he use them to advantage during the progress of a game, but he -was noted for the ingenious combinations and strategic plays which he -worked out and submitted to Bill Fullerton, the head coach. - -The latter had often remarked that Hollister had either a perfectly -phenomenal mind, or else he spent his entire waking hours doping out -these plays, so many of which had proved invaluable to the eleven. - -His latter supposition had been the correct one. Hollister’s brain did, -indeed, work very quickly; and that, together with his perfect knowledge -of football, enabled him to work out clever schemes in far less time -than the ordinary mortal; but what had at first started as a more or -less interesting pastime now reached a point when it absorbed almost -every conscious moment. - -Dick Merriwell’s words opened his eyes to the truth, and, as he crossed -the campus to his rooms in Vanderbilt, he gave them very serious thought -and attention. - -He would start in the very next day with the necessary reform. He would -do as Dick advised, and cut out thinking about football except when he -was on the field. It was too bad the profs hadn’t let him alone until -after the end of the season, for then he could have turned his attention -to his books with a much freer mind; but since they hadn’t, he must -simply make the best of it. It would be a hard pull, but he did not -doubt his ability to succeed. - -_He went to sleep that night thinking over a new variation of the -forward pass._ - -Before leaving his rooms next morning, the expected warning from the -dean, regarding his extremely poor showing in history, appeared. - -Hollister read it with an expression of whimsical annoyance on his -pleasant face. - -“Darn his buttons!” he muttered. “Why couldn’t Piercy have passed over -that break of mine! He might have known I wasn’t paying attention. I -suppose he thought I was trying to be funny and cod him. Well, I’ll have -to make the best of it. I hope he doesn’t get after me again to-day, -though. I haven’t the most remote idea what his lecture was about -yesterday.” - -Nor had he a much clearer conception of any of the other recitations or -lectures he was to attend that day, and his face was rather glum as he -ran downstairs and out onto the campus. He was due at the chemical lab -at ten o’clock, and, as he hurried across one of the walks, head down -and thoughts, sad to say, very far away from chemistry, he suddenly -heard some one calling his name. - -“What’s your hurry, Bob? Where you rushing to?” - -Hollister looked up quickly, and when he saw who the speaker was, his -face brightened. - -“Hello, Jarv,” he said quickly. “I’m due at the lab at ten o’clock.” - -“As it lacks just sixteen minutes of that hour, and you can’t possibly -use up more than five getting over there, I fail to see the reason for -your hurry,” commented Jarvis Blake, as he continued to advance slowly -and leisurely. “I’m going there myself, but I don’t propose to run my -legs off.” - -He was a big, blond fellow, with thick, straight, almost tow-colored -hair, eyelashes and eyebrows so light as to be nearly invisible. He wore -a neatly clipped yellow mustache, which was the exact color of corn -silk. - -His eyes were dark blue and set wide apart, his features clean-cut and -handsome, except that his mouth was large and loosely set. He was one of -the best subs on the varsity and played an exceedingly good, brainy -game. - -Men about college said he had a pronounced case of swelled head. -Certainly he was not likely to undervalue himself, but for all that he -was well liked among a certain class, and Hollister had always found him -genial and entertaining, a good fellow in every respect. - -“Didn’t know I had so much time,” the latter explained, as they pursued -their way along the walk together. - -“How are things?” inquired Jarvis. “Strikes me you look a bit glum this -morning.” - -Hollister hesitated for an instant. - -“Oh, it’s those warnings, I suppose,” he said, at length. “I got the -third one right after breakfast.” - -Blake whistled. - -“Well, what have you been doing to get the profs down on you?” he asked. - -“It’s what I haven’t done that’s got them going, I reckon,” Hollister -returned. “I don’t know as I blame them much after the way I’ve flunked -lately.” - -“Rot!” exclaimed Blake emphatically. “You’re no worse than half the -other fellows in the class.” - -“I don’t know about that,” Hollister said doubtfully. “I’d hate to count -up the number of goose eggs I’ve accumulated this term. You heard the -fool thing I said to Piercy yesterday?” - -Blake grinned. - -“Say, that was sort of funny, wasn’t it?” he remarked. “But anybody -could see you weren’t paying attention. You heard from old Pierson, -then?” - -Hollister nodded. - -“That’s the one I got this morning.” - -“Well, I wouldn’t let a thing like that worry me,” Blake went on -quickly. “The profs don’t seem to realize that a fellow can’t give much -time to work during the football season. They get down on a man, too, -and, once he flunks, they keep pounding him out of sheer spite. I -haven’t got any warnings so far, but I’d be willing to bet that one or -two will come along within the next two weeks.” - -“Hope you don’t, I’m sure,” Hollister returned absently. “There’s no -doubt about it, though, I’ve got to take a brace and cut out thinking -about football at all off the field, if I want to stay on with the -class.” - -A look of dismay came into Blake’s sun-burned face. - -“Why, what the mischief are you thinking of, Bob?” he asked quickly. -“Stop thinking about football when you’re the brains, practically, of -the team! Why, only a couple of days ago I heard old Bill saying that -three-quarters of the clever stunts he had made use of this fall were -due to you.” - -Hollister’s face flushed a little and his eyes gleamed with pleasure. - -“Is that straight?” he asked eagerly. “Did he really say all that?” - -“He certainly did, and a lot more, which I won’t repeat for fear you’ll -have to buy a bigger-sized hat. You can’t stop now, Bob, when we’re all -counting on you for so much. The new rules have practically made a -different game out of football, and you’ve been one of the few that have -risen to the occasion and doped out a bunch of new tricks which will -knock spots out of Harvard. All this warning business is tommyrot. They -won’t drop you, and after the season is over you can buckle down to work -and make up for lost time.” - -Blake’s words made a deep impression on Hollister, especially since they -coincided exactly with his own ideas. After all, what was the use in -worrying himself about the matter when there were only a few more weeks -left before the season would be over? He would have no trouble then in -recovering the ground he had lost, once his mind was freed from the -constant consideration of football problems. And, according to Jarvis -Blake, his help was really needed by the team. - -“Better reconsider,” Blake urged presently. “Don’t give up the ship just -yet.” - -They were going into the laboratory as he spoke, and Hollister hesitated -an instant in the doorway. - -“I will, Jarv,” he said slowly. “Much obliged for all you told me about -old Bill. That sort of thing is mighty encouraging, you know.” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER III - - A TALK WITH THE DEAN. - - -Bob Hollister fully expected to find a general warning awaiting him in -his rooms, when he returned at noon. He had been surprised that it had -not appeared in the morning, but supposed it to have been delayed in the -mail. - -Consequently, he was not a little dismayed to find, instead, a -typewritten note signed by the dean himself, asking him kindly to call -at the latter’s office at half-past two. - -“What in calamity does he mean by that?” he muttered, crinkling his -forehead into a dozen worried wrinkles. “I reckon I’m in for a good -roast this time.” - -Outwardly calm, but with considerable inward trepidation, he reached the -dean’s office five minutes before the appointed time, and, on sending in -his name, was at once summoned to the inner office. - -The dean looked up from his desk as the senior entered. - -“Sit down, Mr. Hollister,” he said, indicating a chair which stood near -the desk. - -Hollister dropped down in the chair and crossed his legs. There was -silence for a moment while the older man reached out to take up several -papers which had been pinned together, and glanced them over. Then he -leaned back in his chair and surveyed Bob meditatively through his -gold-rimmed glasses. - -“You are aware, of course, Mr. Hollister,” he remarked presently, “that -an undergraduate who has been the recipient of three separate notices -warning him that his rank in as many different studies is not -satisfactory, has sent to him what is called a general warning?” - -“Yes, sir,” Bob returned quietly. - -“You know, I suppose, the meaning of this general warning?” - -“Yes, sir—er—well, not exactly,” Bob said hastily. “I haven’t had one so -far myself, but I always thought that they were a pretty emphatic hint -for a fellow to brace up and attend to business.” - -The dean’s eyes twinkled. - -“You have the right notion,” he remarked. “To deserve a general warning, -a man’s record must be pretty bad. I am sorry to say that yours is more -than bad. It is atrocious.” - -Hollister’s face flushed and he dropped his eyes. - -“I’m sorry,” he murmured. - -The dean placed the tips of his fingers lightly together and surveyed -the troubled face of the senior over the tops of them. - -“It is in such marked contrast to your record of the past three years,” -he went on quietly, “that I decided to have a talk with you and find out -what was the matter. Can you tell me, Mr. Hollister, why it is that you -seem to have done absolutely nothing in any class this term?” - -“I’ve—been thinking—a lot about—football,” stammered Bob. - -“Ah! Giving time to it away from the field, you mean?” the older man -inquired. - -Hollister nodded. - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Is that necessary to a proper performance of the game?” the dean asked -quietly. “I do not seem to recall any such complaints as these about the -work of other members of the eleven.” - -He tapped the papers on the desk in front of him lightly. - -Hollister glanced up quickly. - -“It isn’t absolutely necessary,” he answered. “But the new rules have -changed the game a lot and made it necessary to devise a great many -different tricks and combinations to make up for those which have been -barred out. I’ve been awfully interested in it, and I’ve spent a good -deal of time thinking these things out, which should, no doubt, have -been put to better use.” - -The older man nodded. - -“I understand,” he said slowly. “I have observed your excellent work on -the field, and that is one of the reasons why I wished to find out what -was the matter. Football, like many other athletic games, is extremely -valuable, Mr. Hollister, as an aid to character development. But, like -almost every other good thing, it is liable to be done to death. I’m -sure you don’t wish to develop into a man with only one idea, one -purpose in life. - -“Such a man gets into a rut—becomes narrow, ineffective, and finally -useless. It’s a common failing in the business world, and has resulted -in thousands upon thousands of the merest machines and human automatons. -While you’re on the field play the game for all that is in you, but -don’t carry the thought of it always with you, to the exclusion of every -other duty. I shall not send you the general warning just yet, Mr. -Hollister, until I see whether you take this little talk to heart. Your -playing on the eleven has earned you a little latitude, but it must be -understood that from this moment there has to be a very marked change -for the better in your class records, or I shall be obliged to let -things take their regular course. I hope you understand my meaning.” - -“Perfectly, sir,” Hollister answered gratefully, “and I mean to take it -to heart as well. I hope that you won’t have cause for any more -complaints.” - -The dean smiled. - -“Good,” he said quickly. “If you persist in your determination, I am -sure I shall not. I think that’s all. No doubt you are eager to get down -to the field. Good afternoon.” - -“Good afternoon, sir,” Hollister answered, as he arose and walked toward -the door. - -Once outside, he dashed out of Lampson Hall, tore across to the car, and -in a few minutes was on his way to the field. - -“He certainly is a good sort,” he said to himself as he got a seat well -forward in the car. “I expected to be handed out a cold calldown, and it -was a regular fatherly talk. He’s right, though, I really ought to brace -up; but how the mischief can I until the season’s over?” - -Once on the gridiron, Hollister was in his element. He flung himself -into the practice game with tremendous enthusiasm, playing with all the -vim and go and energy which he would have exhibited in a hot contest -with another college. - -He was not the sort that hold back and do just enough to make a fairly -good showing. He must do his best or nothing, and for that reason he was -very valuable in practice. He always kept his temper, disdained hard -knocks—they were all part of the game; and he was never too tired to try -“just one more formation.” - -He had worked out his forward pass in detail and Fullerton approved of -it so highly that he tried it out with complete success that afternoon, -much to Hollister’s delight. - -“Great stunt of yours,” Jarvis Blake said, as they were trotting across -the field toward the athletic house. “I thought you’d realize that you -couldn’t leave off helping the team out just yet a while.” - -Again Hollister felt that pleasant, satisfying glow of ability fitly -recognized. Fullerton’s commendations had been especially emphatic, too, -and they had a long discussion about a new move which the coach had not -been able to plan out in detail, and which he was anxious to have Bob -think over. - -Even Don Tempest, the captain, usually very chary with his praise, had -held him up as an example to one or two lagging members of the team; -and, altogether, Hollister was feeling pretty good as he entered the -house. - -He joined Dick Merriwell, who was hastily dressing in front of his -locker. - -“Did you get that general warning you were expecting?” Dick asked. - -Bob grinned. - -“No; but I got a talking to from the dean,” he returned. - -Dick whistled. - -“Calldown?” he asked. - -“Not so much of a one as I thought it was going to be,” Hollister -confessed. “Told me I had to brace up and cut out football off the -field. I’d like to have told him that it was just what you advised last -night, but I didn’t.” - -Dick laughed. - -“Glad to have my judgment confirmed from so eminent a source,” he -smiled. “I hope you’ll take some of this advice which is being thrown at -you so plentifully.” - -Hollister’s face fell. - -“After to-night I will,” he said hastily. “I’ve got to think out that -combination of Fullerton’s, you know; but to-morrow I really will begin -to dig good and hard.” - -Merriwell’s face grew a little serious. - -“Think that’s wise, Bob?” he asked quietly. “I’ve noticed that the -resolutions which we put off until to-morrow never materialize. They -always get shoved on to another to-morrow. It’s none of my business, old -fellow, but I should hate like the mischief to have anything happen so -that you couldn’t keep on with the class.” - -“Oh, they won’t drop me,” Hollister said confidently. “Even the dean -said he’d noticed my work on the field and thought I ought to have a -little latitude. I’ll make it up after the season’s over, Dick. I’ll -turn into such a grind you won’t know me. Gee! I’ve got to get a hustle -on or I won’t get round to supper.” - -He hurried off without giving Dick a chance to reply. It almost seemed -as if he were afraid of what his friend might say, but there was no fear -of Merriwell’s following him up with advice which was apparently not -wanted. - -As he glanced after Hollister there was a look of regret in Dick’s dark -eyes. He knew just about how far Bob would go with his resolutions of -turning over a new leaf, and it worried him a little to think of the -chances his friend was taking. - -Then, with a shrug of his shoulders, he slipped into his coat, slapped a -cap on his head, and, gathering in Buckhart, left the house. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - FROM BAD TO WORSE. - - -For the next few days, Bob Hollister saw more of Jarvis Blake than he -had in as many weeks before that. The big, blond fellow took to dropping -in at his rooms at all hours of the day or night, and, though he usually -had some plausible reason for so doing, it might have been observed that -he invariably turned the talk into the channel of football matters -before he had been there five minutes. - -This was not difficult to do. More often than not, he did not have to -introduce the matter at all, for Bob was always ready to meet him even -more than halfway. But the result was that the occasional half-hearted -attempts of Hollister to do a little studying were completely -frustrated. - -Bob really meant well. He fully intended to take a brace and follow the -advice which had been given him by Merriwell, and by the dean himself, -and had it not been for these regular visits of Blake, he might possibly -have succeeded in occasionally absorbing a few facts from his textbooks -which would have staved off for a little while the inevitable smash; for -his roommate, Jim Townsend, though a fellow who took an absorbing -interest in all branches of athletics, had long ago seen whither his -chum was drifting, and had resolutely refused to discuss anything -pertaining to football with him during the evenings. - -But Blake had no such compunctions. He seemed to take a particular -delight in running in about eight o’clock with some idea about the game -which had occurred to him, and about which he wanted Bob’s opinion. The -natural result was that the entire evening was spent in discussion, and -absolutely no studying was done. - -As an equally natural consequence, Hollister continued to make a fearful -showing in the classroom, accumulating zero after zero with a regularity -which was appalling. - -Townsend tried persuasion at first, urging his friend to take a brace -before it was too late, and pointing out what the extremely unpleasant -result would be if he did not. Each time Bob would acknowledge in a -good-natured way that he was in the wrong, and vow that he would turn -over a new leaf and do some cramming that very night. - -But when the evening came and Blake appeared with his insidious -questions and arguments on football matters, books would be thrown -quickly aside and Hollister would enter joyfully into the discussion -which generally lasted until bedtime. - -Once or twice Townsend tackled Blake himself, showing him clearly how -much harm his visits were doing Hollister; but the big, blond chap -laughed down his arguments, treated the matter as something which -Townsend’s fears had greatly exaggerated, and calmly went on his way. - -Very soon Jim began to have a more than sneaking suspicion that there -was some method in Blake’s behavior. The thing occurred with entirely -too much regularity for it to be merely accidental, especially as the -fellow had not been in the habit of coming into their rooms more than -once or twice a week until very lately. - -Gradually this suspicion became a certainty, and, before very long, -Townsend felt sure that he had hit upon the reason for it all. - -The thought made his blood boil, and he lost no time in broaching the -matter to his roommate. - -Bob was rather late coming in from the training table that night, but -the instant he opened the door Townsend, who had been waiting -impatiently for him, opened fire. - -“Has it occurred to you, Bob,” he remarked, with apparent casualness, -“that Blake’s been dropping in here an awful lot lately?” - -Hollister threw his hat on a chair and plumped himself down on another. - -“Why, I don’t know,” he said carelessly; “perhaps he has. We’ve had a -bunch of things to talk over, though. He’s really got some very good -ideas and has helped me a lot.” - -Townsend sniffed. - -“Helped you! Humph!” he exclaimed sarcastically. “Yes, I believe it!” - -Hollister glanced inquiringly at him. - -“What’s the matter, Jim?” he asked. “What you got against Jarv?” - -“What’s he come in here every night for, I’d like to know?” Townsend -demanded. “He gets you going on football, and the result is you haven’t -opened a book since you had that talk with the dean, and your flunks in -the classrooms are something fierce.” - -Hollister’s face took on an expression of whimsical annoyance. - -“Thunder, Jim!” he exclaimed petulantly. “What do you want to start -preaching for? You know I’m going to settle down into a fierce grind the -minute the last game is over. I just can’t find time to do it now with -so much else to think about.” - -“Rot!” growled Townsend. “You talk nutty! You’d have time enough if that -tow-headed son of a gun didn’t come butting in every night and break you -all up.” - -Hollister made no reply, but his heavy brows drew down into a scowl. -Townsend, too full of his grievance to notice this, presently continued -his argument. - -“Hasn’t it ever occurred to you, Bob,” he said significantly, “how very -nice it would be for Blake if you were conditioned and had to leave the -team? He’s one of the best subs for your position, and there’s hardly a -question but what he would step into your shoes at once. I’ll bet that’s -the reason which brings him here so often, with his football talk and -his sneers about there being no danger of the dean doing anything -radical. He’s keeping you from boning on purpose. He’d be tickled to -death to see you dropped so he could——” - -“Stop!” interrupted Hollister, in an angry voice. “Just cut out that -line of talk, Jim. You forget that Blake is my friend. You never liked -him, I know, but that’s no reason why you should blackguard him this -way.” - -His face was dark, and there was an angry flash in his usually merry -brown eyes; for he was a fellow who was loyal to the very core. -Absolutely upright and honorable himself, it never occurred to him that -there was the most remote possibility that a fellow he liked as much as -he did Jarvis Blake was not entirely fair and square in every way. The -idea to which his roommate had given voice was incredible. He refused to -tolerate the thought for a single instant, and at once proceeded to -thrust it from his mind with the greatest expedition. - -Townsend lapsed into a sullen silence. He had done his best to warn his -chum, but, if Bob was so thick-headed as all that, he could go his own -way without hindrance. - -This point of view lasted exactly ten minutes, however. By that time Jim -had cooled down and was thinking over some other way by which Hollister -could be brought to his senses. Fond as he was of his roommate, he could -not bear the thought of his being dropped. There must be some way of -making him realize the gravity of the situation. - -Not for an instant did Townsend waver in his fixed belief that Blake was -deliberately working to bring about Bob’s downfall so that he could step -into his place on the varsity; and when the blond chap presently -appeared and the usual talk commenced Jim’s temper soon reached a -boiling point. He knew that if he remained in the room much longer he -would have to blow off steam, and, in the present condition of affairs, -that was not at all to be desired. - -Consequently, some twenty minutes later, he slammed down his book, and, -without a word of explanation, picked up his hat and went out. - -Blake glanced up with a curious smile. - -“Our friend seems to be somewhat pettish to-night,” he remarked, in a -languid drawl. - -Hollister flushed a little. He knew quite well why Townsend had -departed, and it irritated him to think that his roommate had such a -small, narrow nature as to suspect this big, bluff, frank fellow of any -sort of double dealing. - -“Oh, I suppose he thought of something he wanted to do,” he said, rather -lamely. “But about that formation we were speaking of. I’ve doped it all -out. Let me show you.” - -Reaching for a piece of paper, he drew a few swift lines on it. - -“See, it’s that way,” he said eagerly. - -Blake leaned over him, a swift gleam of triumph in his eyes. - -“Yes, that’s the idea,” he returned quietly. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER V - - THE QUARREL. - - -By the time Jim Townsend reached the campus he was at a white heat. - -“Hang him!” he snapped viciously. “I know that’s what he’s up to, but -how in the mischief can I make Bob understand? He’s such a softy he -simply won’t believe a thing against Blake, just because he likes him. -The double-faced skunk!” - -The last remark was intended for Blake, but Jim was too wrought up to -talk coherently. He wandered around the campus for a few minutes and -then decided to take his troubles to Blair Hildebrand, one of his -particular chums, whose cool, level-headed advice had helped him out on -more than one occasion. - -He found the big, blue-eyed senior alone, glancing over the latest issue -of the _Lit_, and evidently very tired of his own company. - -“Hello, old man,” he said cordially, as Townsend appeared. “You’re a -perfect godsend. George has gone to New York, and I was just thinking of -looking up some congenial spirit and painting the town red. How’s -everything?” - -“Rotten!” returned Townsend shortly, as he dropped onto a chair. “That -dub, Jarvis Blake, is over at the rooms jabbering football and keeping -Bob from doing an earthly thing with to-morrow’s work. And you know how -the dean warned him the other day.” - -Hildebrand nodded. - -“Yes, I heard about it,” he returned. “Isn’t that something new—Blake’s -coming around, I mean?” - -“He’s done it every night this week,” Jim explained morosely. “I’ll bet -any money, Blair, that he’s doing it on purpose so Bob will be dropped -and he’ll get on the varsity. I told Bob as much to-night.” - -“How did he take it?” Hildebrand asked interestedly. - -“Wouldn’t listen to a word against the man,” returned Townsend. “Thinks -he’s all to the good. You know Bob never will hear anything against a -fellow he likes.” - -“Yes, he’s a dandy chap that way,” Hildebrand answered absently. “That’s -one of the reasons why every one likes him so well.” - -He was evidently thinking about something else. - -“That’s all very nice,” Jim retorted quickly; “but a fellow can carry it -too far. He’s making a fool of himself going on the way he’s been all -this term. He’ll be dropped unless he wakes up mighty sudden. And I -don’t want him dropped. He’s too good a fellow for that.” - -Townsend’s voice was mournful and his face downcast and dejected at the -thought of what might happen to his chum. - -Presently Hildebrand looked up. - -“I shouldn’t wonder a bit if you were right about Blake, Jim,” he said. -“He makes a mighty good showing with his frank, hearty manner, but I -have every reason to think that he’s far from being above just such a -trick as this.” - -Townsend sat up suddenly, his face aglow with interest. - -“You have?” he exclaimed quickly. “What was it? Anything which Bob would -listen to?” - -“Just a little experience I had with him last year,” the stalwart guard -returned quietly; “but it proved pretty conclusively that Blake was -mighty poor stuff. Whether it would have any effect on Bob or not, is -quite another question.” - -“Can’t you tell a fellow what it was?” Jim asked eagerly. - -Hildebrand shook his head slowly. - -“What’s the use?” he said, with a quiet smile. “I don’t believe in -knocking a man unless it’s necessary, even if he isn’t straight. I -haven’t told a soul about this; but if you really think that’s what -Blake’s up to, I have no objection to putting Bob wise on the quiet some -time.” - -“I’m sure it is,” Townsend said decidedly. “He never used to come -around, but ever since Bob got that talking to from the dean, he’s been -in every solitary night, and insists on jawing football from the time he -sets foot in the room until he leaves. I’ll take my oath that he’s got a -reason for it.” - -“If that’s the case,” Hildebrand returned, “I’ll brace Bob the first -chance I get and tell him a thing or two which will open his eyes.” - -The opportunity came the very next afternoon. Both Hollister and -Hildebrand were late getting away from the field, and it happened that, -quite without premeditation on the part of the latter, they came out of -the gate together. In the bustle and turmoil of practice, the big guard -had quite forgotten his promise to Townsend, but now it suddenly came -back into his mind. - -“Say, Bob,” he said slowly, “do you mind walking for a few minutes? I -just remembered something I wanted to tell you.” - -Hollister looked a little surprised. - -“Why, no, not at all,” he returned quickly. “Anything about the team?” - -Hildebrand hesitated. He had suddenly discovered that what he had to say -was not going to be at all easy. - -“Partly, yes,” he answered presently. “I hope you won’t think I’m a -beastly butter-in, Bob, if I touch on something which is rather -personal. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t think so much of you and hate to -see you knifed.” - -Hollister frowned and a puzzled look came into his eyes. - -“I don’t see quite what you’re driving at,” he said, a bit shortly; “but -go ahead.” - -The guard’s pleasant face was flushed. He almost wished he hadn’t -promised Jim; but at length, he drew a long breath and took the plunge. - -“It’s about Blake,” he said quickly. “Jim tells me he’s been coming in -every night and keeping you from your work. I think you ought to know -that he isn’t—well, he isn’t quite—a fellow to be trusted. I know, -because I caught him cheating in a poker game last spring—a game for -money.” - -An ominous silence followed. In the light of a near-by street lamp, -Hildebrand saw his companion’s lithe figure stiffen and his pleasant -face harden. - -“Well, is that all?” inquired Hollister at length, in a cold, cutting -voice. - -“Why, yes,” Hildebrand answered in surprise. “I should think it was -enough.” - -Hollister was evidently keeping his temper with an effort. - -“Entirely too much!” he snapped. “I hope you’re pleased with your -attempt to blacken the character of one of my friends. Nice, pleasant -occupation, isn’t it, running down a man when he isn’t around to defend -himself? However, you’ve had your trouble for your pains. I don’t -believe a word of it.” - -Hildebrand caught his breath suddenly and his face turned scarlet. -Stopping abruptly, he turned fiercely on Hollister, with blazing eyes -and clenched fists. Another moment and he would have landed a smashing -blow on the face of the man who had called him a liar, but, just in -time, he got a grip on himself and realized the utter impossibility of -two seniors indulging in a fist fight in the street. - -“You’ll be sorry for that, Hollister!” he said, in a voice which -quivered with suppressed anger. “I might have known that this would be -all the thanks I’d get for trying to do you a good turn. I’ll send you -written proof of the statement I just made. Luckily there were two other -men in the game.” - -Without another word, he walked quickly away, leaving Hollister alone, a -feeling of regret that he had been so hasty, struggling with the anger -which Hildebrand’s accusation against his friend had aroused in him. - -“I suppose I shouldn’t have said that,” he murmured regretfully. “But he -made me mad with those rotten insinuations against Jarv.” - -Then the thought came to him that Hildebrand had not contented himself -with insinuations. He had made a downright, matter-of-fact statement, -which he proposed to back with written proof. But even then Bob could -not bring himself to believe that Blake would descend so low as to cheat -at cards. - -There must have been a mistake made somewhere—must be some explanation -of the thing. Blake was one of his special friends whom he had known and -liked ever since they first entered college together, and in all that -time he had never known Jarvis to do anything which was not quite square -and honorable. - -Hollister was not at all a good judge of character. His likes and -dislikes were very strong, but they were governed by his heart and not -by his head. If he once came to care for a fellow he was ready to stick -to him through thick and thin, stand up for him at all times and places, -and refused to listen to a word against him. Once or twice during his -college life he had been disappointed in a man who had been admitted to -the inner circle of his friendship. One notable instance was that of a -perfectly charming fellow who was possessed of almost every known -accomplishment and talent, but in whom the sense of right and wrong was -strangely, inexplicably lacking. - -Hollister had taken to him tremendously from the very first, and the -fellow’s charm of manner and personal magnetism had blinded him to a -realizing sense of his sinister failings. For months Bob stuck to him, -refusing to listen to the advice of other friends who had discovered the -man’s real character, and had only been brought to his senses by coming -in suddenly one day and catching the fellow in the act of taking money -out of the bill case he had left carelessly on the table. - -So he had been all through his college career; honest, loyal, -true-hearted, but strangely blinded by prejudice, sometimes almost -lacking in common sense when it came to judging the real character of a -man. - -Presently a car appeared, but Hollister let it go. Hildebrand would -probably take it, and at the present moment he did not feel like riding -back to the campus face to face with the man he had just insulted. - -The more he thought over the matter the sorrier he was that he had -allowed his temper to get the best of him. He liked Blair, and, now that -he had calmed down, he realized that the big guard must have been -perfectly sincere when he made the charge against Blake. He had probably -done it with the best intentions in the world. - -“Though why everybody is so down on Jarv I can’t imagine,” Bob muttered -to himself. “He’s a good fellow, and we’ve had some dandy talks about -football lately. It’s all rot about his keeping me from work. I can’t -get down to boning, anyway.” - -The next car was a long time coming, and, as he stood on the curb -waiting for it, he remembered his roommate’s somewhat heated talk of the -night before. But that was perfectly absurd. There could not be anything -in that. Why, Blake had been actually helping him out with some of the -football problems, giving him some really clever ideas, and he was not -at all likely to do that if he were scheming for his place on the -varsity. - -“This is worse than trying to study!” he exclaimed presently, in a tone -of exasperation. “I wish people wouldn’t take such an infernal interest -in what I am doing! Why can’t they let me alone to do as I like?” - -The answer was simple, though he would never have guessed it in a -thousand years. He was too decent a fellow to be let alone to ruin -himself by his own blind folly so long as any of his friends could -prevent it. - -Just then a car came along and Hollister took it. He did his best to -forget his regrettable quarrel with Hildebrand, but all the way back to -the campus it kept recurring to his mind, bringing with it curious, -disturbing little doubts as to whether there might not be something -after all in the statements the stalwart guard had made, and which -fitted in so patly with Jim Townsend’s petulant outburst. - -Consequently, by the time he reached the training table his condition of -mind was not enviable. Hildebrand was already in his place and seemed to -have recovered completely from his fit of anger; but, though he was -pleasant and genial to the others, he paid no attention to Bob, ignoring -his existence quietly, but completely. - -In spite of the fact that he had brought it on himself, Hollister was -hurt by this, and unconsciously his attitude toward Jarvis Blake -underwent a change. - -As a result of all these wheels within wheels, a sort of damper was -thrown over the whole table which was felt by every one, though few -understood the cause. They only saw that the jokes fell flat, laughter -was forced, or absent altogether, and the resulting silences long drawn -out. - -Dick Merriwell was quick to see that something unusual had happened, and -long before the meal was over he was sure that Hollister and Hildebrand -had fallen out in some way. Knowing that there was nothing worse for the -discipline of the team or more productive of poor work than internal -dissensions, he resolved to find out what the trouble was; and, as they -walked back to the campus through “Grub Alley,” he slipped his hand -through Hollister’s arm. - -“Say, Bob, what’s the trouble between you and Blair?” he asked, in a low -tone. - -Hollister hesitated. - -“Oh, we had a run-in this afternoon about Blake,” he said, in a rather -pettish tone. “He told me that Jarv had been caught cheating at poker, -and I as much as said he was a liar. I reckon I shouldn’t have been so -strong, but he made me mad. He had no business to say such a thing about -a friend of mine.” - -“I see,” Merriwell returned thoughtfully. “Do you mind telling me what -his object was in giving you that information?” - -“It’s all come about through Jim!” Hollister burst out. “He needs to -have his head punched. He’s got the insane idea that Jarv wants to see -me dropped so he can cinch my place in the line. He came out with that -silly story last night. Said Blake comes around on purpose to keep me -from boning so that I’ll flunk in the classes and be thrown out. Of -course, I shut him up quick, and I suppose he went to Blair with his -fool story.” - -“Blake been coming around much lately?” Dick asked casually. - -“Quite a little.” - -“Almost every night, hasn’t he?” Dick persisted. - -“Well—yes,” Hollister acknowledged. “This week, that is.” - -There was silence for a few moments, which was broken by Merriwell. - -“I’m not much on knocking a man, Bob,” he said quietly; “but if I were -you I wouldn’t trust Blake too far. I know of one or two things he’s -done which weren’t quite——Well, you wouldn’t have done them yourself, -old fellow.” - -Without waiting for a reply, he dropped Bob’s arm and walked quickly -away, leaving Hollister more of a prey to doubt and suspicions than he -had been before. - -He knew that Merriwell was a man who almost never said anything against -a fellow student. If he did not like a man, or disapproved of him for -any reason, he had as little to do with him as possible, but his lips -were generally sealed. If he could not say anything good of a fellow, he -preferred keeping silent. - -It was only on very rare occasions when something important was at stake -that he gave an adverse opinion of a man, and, consequently, the few -words he had just uttered concerning Blake were especially significant. -They must have some foundation or Merriwell would never have given voice -to them. - -Hollister’s mind was in a turmoil. Unwilling to believe the worst of -Blake, it was impossible not to realize that there must be something -underhand about him or two such fellows as Merriwell and Hildebrand -would never have said what they had against him. - -Bewildered and sick at heart, Bob made his way slowly to his rooms. Jim -had gone out for the evening, so that he was alone, and, having tossed -hat and overcoat aside, he dropped down in a chair. - -At any rate, he did not want to see Blake that night. With this thing on -his mind, he could not feel at ease with him, and he would rather not -see the man until he had come to some final decision as to what his -course would be. All at once he glanced quickly at the clock. - -“By Jove!” he exclaimed, springing up. “He’s likely to be here any -time.” - -Snatching up his coat and hat, he was about to hurry out when he heard -the muffled slam of the big entrance door below. - -“I’ll bet that’s him now,” he muttered. - -The next moment he had switched off the light and hurried into the -bedroom, where he softly drew the door partly shut and stood behind it. - -Presently a step sounded in the hall, followed by a knock at the door. -Then the latch clicked and some one entered the room. - -“Hello, Bobby,” called a familiar voice. - -There was no response. Presently Blake stepped over to the electric -light and switched it on. - -“Not here,” he murmured, his eyes traveling swiftly about the room. -“That’s funny. He was ahead of me crossing the campus.” - -There was a pause during which the big, blond fellow whistled softly, as -he walked up and down the room. - -“What’s the good of waiting?” he muttered at length. “He may not come in -for an hour or two. His hash is as good as settled, anyhow. After the -exhibition he made of himself to-day, the dean can’t help doing -something. Maybe little Jarvie will play in the Harvard game after all.” - -He laughed softly; there was a click and the room was shrouded in -darkness; the door closed and silence fell. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - THE CRASH. - - -In the bedroom Bob Hollister stood silent, a rush of bitter anger and -regret overwhelming him. Merriwell and Hildebrand and old Jim had all -been right. What a blind fool he had been not to have seen through Blake -before! What a perfect idiot they must think him! - -Presently he came back into the sitting room, and, turning on the light, -stood hesitating in the middle of the room. It was up to him to get busy -and do something pretty quick. He must not let Blake triumph. - -The sudden shock had made him realize his precarious position more -clearly than a dozen arguments would have done, and there was now an -added incentive to work. He was determined that Blake should not -accomplish the purpose for which he had schemed. His blood was aroused -to a boiling point. He would not be dropped! - -But, first of all, he must see Blair. He had behaved shamefully that -afternoon to the fellow who had done a distasteful thing purely for his -own good, and Bob felt that he could not rest until he had apologized. - -Slipping into his coat, he hurried out of Vanderbilt and made his way -swiftly across to Lawrence. It must be confessed that his heart rather -failed him as he mounted the stairs and stood before Hildebrand’s door, -but without hesitation he raised his hand and knocked. - -“Come in,” called a voice. - -Hollister opened the door and stood hesitating on the threshold. - -Hildebrand sat alone by the table, and, as he glanced up and saw who his -caller was, his face darkened. - -“Well?” he said curtly. - -Hollister flushed and took a step forward. - -“I—I’ve been—a fool, Blair,” he stammered. “I beg your pardon for what I -said this afternoon.” - -“Oh, you’ve found that out, have you?” Hildebrand inquired -sarcastically. - -He was still sore over the result of his attempt that afternoon to open -Hollister’s eyes as to the real character of Blake. It had not been a -pleasant nor an easy thing to do, and Bob’s reception of it had cut him -to the quick, besides making him furiously angry. - -“Yes; he’s all you said of him and more,” Hollister returned in a low -tone. “I just found out, and I couldn’t rest until I had told you how -sorry I am about the way I talked to you.” - -His manner was so dejected, and the look of penitence in his eyes was so -very real as he turned toward the door again, that Hildebrand could not -help but relent. - -“Come back here, you old idiot!” he exclaimed, springing to his feet. -“You certainly did made me hot this afternoon, but what’s the use of -keeping mad? Give us your fist, and the next time don’t be so infernally -set in your way.” - -Hollister’s eyes brightened as he gripped the proffered hand. - -“You’re all to the good, Blair,” he said quickly. “Most fellows would -have felt like kicking me downstairs.” - -“I felt worse than that this afternoon,” the big guard grinned. “But -nobody can stay mad with you very long, Bobby. Sit down and let’s hear -about it.” - -Hollister told the story briefly, and then, in spite of his friend’s -urging, he departed to put in the rest of the evening in hard studying. -Since it was the first time he had really applied himself to his books -in weeks, he naturally did not make much progress, but at least it was a -beginning. - -The blow came the next morning, when the first mail brought him a letter -from the dean’s office. He opened it with trembling fingers and glanced -through the brief contents. The typewritten communication was short, -terse, very much to the point, and bore the scrawly signature of the -dean himself. - - “DEAR SIR: Since you have seen fit utterly to disregard my - advice of a week ago, I am forced to tell you that unless you - attain a grade of at least sixty in every recitation from now - until the beginning of the winter vacation your name will be - dropped from the rolls of the senior class.” - -In perfect silence, jaws set and face a little pale, Hollister read the -short note through the second time. - -“Holy cats!” he muttered. “That’s the end of yours truly, all right! -Sixty per cent.! Why don’t he say a hundred and be done with it? I stand -about as much show of getting it.” - -Now that it was too late, he saw with vivid clearness the extent of his -amazing folly. Merriwell had done his utmost to make him realize the -seriousness of his position a week ago. Jim had been trying his best to -help him for a longer time than that. Even the dean had strained a point -of college discipline in his favor. And in spite of all this he had gone -his way blithely and blindly, living only in the present, with a -perfectly suicidal disregard for the future. - -What could he do? What was there possible for him to do? He was in -despair. He had no more than a glimmering of the work for that day. It -would need nothing less than a miracle for him to get the required -percentage. - -The more he thought over the matter, the more despondent he became. At -length, as a last resort, he resolved to go to Dick with his troubles. -He did not hope for any happy solution of the difficulty, but there is -always a little comfort in talking over one’s miseries with somebody; -and Bob knew that Dick would never say, “I told you so.” - -Happily, the first recitation was scheduled for eleven o’clock, and -Hollister found Dick alone in his rooms working over some math problems. -He looked up smiling as the dismayed fellow entered. - -“Hello, Bobby,” he greeted. “What’s the matter? You look as if life held -no further joys for you.” - -Without a word, Hollister thrust the dean’s letter into Merriwell’s -hand. Dick read it through with knitted brows, and, having finished, -folded it methodically and handed it back. - -“Wouldn’t that kill you dead!” he exclaimed. “Sixty per cent.! Let’s see -how we can dope that out.” - -Hollister looked at him blankly. - -“Dope it out!” he exclaimed. “What is there to dope out? I’m done!” - -“Rot!” Dick returned emphatically. “You’re not going to give up without -an effort, are you? We’ll get you through somehow. But you’ll have to -buckle down and work like a terror.” - -“I’ll work, all right,” Hollister returned, in a dispirited voice; “but -I can’t make that average. Why, I’ve got to start in and make it this -very day, man, and I haven’t the haziest notion of what the Latin lesson -is, though I did grind some on chemistry last night.” - -“Never know what you can do till you try, Bobby,” Dick said cheerily. -“Why, we can’t let you be dropped, old fellow. Rather than that, I’ll -turn tutor and drag you through by the hair of your head.” - -He paused and his face grew serious. - -“There’s one thing sure, though,” he went on, his eyes fixed on -Hollister’s face; “you’ll have to give up football, and drop it like a -hot cake this very day.” - -For an instant Hollister looked at him blankly as if he did not -comprehend what the other had said. Then he understood, and a look of -utter despair came into his eyes. - -“Give it up!” he cried. “Oh, Dick, I can’t!” - -“You’ve got to,” Merriwell retorted firmly. “Can’t you see that if you -don’t you’ll be dropped sure as fate? You can’t play football and study -at the same time. You’re not made that way. It’s a question of giving it -up voluntarily or of being dropped from the class and, consequently, -from the varsity.” - -Hollister groaned. How could he give up the thing he loved better than -anything else in the world! What would college life be without it? He -almost felt as if he’d rather be dropped than voluntarily give it up, -except that such a course would mean the same thing in the end. - -He looked at Merriwell pleadingly. - -“But I could still play in the games, even if I didn’t show up for -practice, couldn’t I?” he urged. - -Dick shook his head. - -“You couldn’t,” he said decidedly. “You’ve got to the point when you -have to give every atom of your mind to your work. The minute you begin -to think about playing in a game your attention will be distracted. You -won’t be able to study. It can’t be done, Bob. You don’t suppose I’m -anxious to see you leave the team, do you? Great Scott, man! I don’t -know what we’ll do without you. But it’s your only chance. Don’t you see -that?” - -Hollister saw it only too clearly. He realized perfectly the truth of -Merriwell’s words. He knew quite well that if he were going to play in a -game he would be thinking for days beforehand about it. Unconsciously -his mind would wander and he would cease giving the proper attention to -his books. Bitterly he regretted the moment when he first began to let -things slide. If he had only not let his enthusiasm for the game get the -better of him he would be all right now. - -And suddenly into his mind came the thought of Jarvis Blake and his -treachery. The fellow would triumph now and would very likely get his -place on the varsity. He could not bear the idea. - -“If I quit the team Blake will be put on,” he said aloud. “I couldn’t -stand that, Dick. It’s what he’s been after right along. Last night—I -heard——” - -A gleam of combat came into Merriwell’s eyes and his chin squared. - -“I thought so,” he said emphatically. “I had a notion that was his game. -But it won’t work if I can put a spoke in his wheel. There are a couple -of other subs who are as good as he is. I rather think one of them will -take your place.” - -“If you could only work it, Dick!” Hollister said eagerly. “Of course, -I’m not trying to blame him for what’s happened. That’s all up to me. -But I do know that he did his best to have me dropped, and if he got my -place in the line I couldn’t stand it.” - -“Don’t worry,” Merriwell said quickly. “I don’t think he will.” - -He paused and looked Hollister keenly in the eyes. - -“Well,” he said slowly, “have you made up your mind?” - -Still Bob wavered, unwilling to take the step which, deep down in his -heart, he knew would have to come. - -Merriwell showed no signs of impatience. With rare sympathy, he realized -what a struggle must be going on in the man’s mind. The thought of all -it would mean to him if, for any reason, _he_ were forced to give up -football was appalling, and he knew that Hollister was even more devoted -to the game. - -“I know how hard it is, Bobby,” he said quietly. “But after a little -you’ll come to see that it’s the only thing for you to do. Football—any -game, in fact—is a splendid thing when it keeps its proper proportions -as something incidental to the college course. But the minute it begins -to dominate a man, as it has done you to the exclusion of everything -else, it’s time to cut it out. You didn’t come to Yale to play football, -but to get your degree and the other benefits which a college course -gives a man. Think how you’d feel if you were dropped at the very -beginning of your senior year. Think of the humiliation of being thrown -out with such a record as you have made this fall.” - -“I can’t even play in the Yale-Princeton game on Saturday?” Hollister -questioned sadly. - -Dick shook his head firmly. - -“No, sir,” he returned with emphasis. “You give me your promise never to -play football again while you’re in college, and I’ll do my very best to -pull you through in your studies. How about it?” - -“All right,” Hollister said, in a low voice. “I promise.” - -“Good,” Dick smiled. “That’s the stuff. Now let’s get down to business.” - -He glanced swiftly at the clock. - -“An hour and a half before Latin,” he murmured. “We’ve got to get busy.” - -Before Hollister knew what he was doing, Dick had him sitting at the -table, the open book before him, and together they proceeded to go -through the day’s allotment of Horace. - -Merriwell did his work thoroughly, translating slowly and stopping to -explain the derivation of every word about which Bob had the least -doubt. He had a natural gift of making things plain, and in an hour’s -time Hollister had acquired a pretty good notion of what it was all -about. Then, after a hurried review of the chemistry lesson, they -sallied forth to the lecture room. - -“I think you’ll do in the Horace, old fellow,” Dick assured him. “Just -keep your head and take it slowly, and you’ll come out all right.” - -Such proved to be the case. About halfway through the hour, Professor -Goodhue called Hollister’s name in a rather weary tone of voice, fully -expecting a repetition of the absolute failures for which the fellow had -become noted. - -To his amazement, Hollister arose slowly and gave a very good rendering -of the passage, even to construing accurately the few words the dazed -professor asked him. - -“That will do, Mr. Hollister,” the latter managed to say when Bob had -finished. “Very good indeed. I should—er—like to congratulate you on the -extraordinary improvement in your work.” - -“Thank you, sir,” Bob murmured, his face a bit red. - -On the campus outside, Dick slapped him on the back. - -“Well done!” he exclaimed. “That was more than sixty, all right. You’ll -do. Now for the lab. That’s going to be harder, for we didn’t give any -time to it.” - -As they mounted the steps to the chemical laboratory, Bob happened to -catch a glimpse of Blake’s face, and the look of ill-tempered annoyance -he saw there was an added incentive to renewed endeavor. The big, blond -fellow was evidently not at all pleased with the surprising turn things -had taken. - -By some fortunate chance, Hollister was not called upon at all in -chemistry. Perhaps the professor had grown weary of his constant -failures and did not think it worth while. At all events, it gave Bob a -little respite. There were no other recitations that day, and by -to-morrow, he hoped, with Dick’s assistance, to have made up a little of -the lost time. - -Merriwell realized perfectly that what he had undertaken was not going -to be any easy task. There was no fun at all in coaching a fellow who -had done absolutely no work for almost six weeks, and was, consequently, -totally ignorant of what had been gone over so far that term. But this -fact did not deter him in the least. He knew that it was the only way by -which Hollister could be saved, and, though it meant that every spare -moment must be devoted to tutoring Bob for a few weeks at least, he was -fond enough of the fellow to go to that extreme. - -Hollister’s announcement at the training table that he had to leave the -team was one of the hardest things he had ever done. It had the effect -of a bombshell on the assembled players. - -Instantly the room was in an uproar. The fellows all crowded around him, -unable to believe their ears. - -“You can’t leave, Bobby!” - -“Cut it out, old man, and have another think.” - -“Stop your kidding!” - -“Thunderation! What’ll we do without you?” - -These and a dozen other incredulous exclamations were hurled at the -wretched fellow, but Bob persisted in his resolve; and when the men saw -that he was really in earnest, they were in despair. - -All, that is, save Jarvis Blake. Dick, his eye on the fellow, noticed -the sudden expression of amazed incredulity which flashed into his face, -to be followed instantly by a look of joy and unmistakable triumph. -Evidently he had not expected this turn of affairs, but he was none the -less more than satisfied with it. - -“I’ll put a spoke in your wheel, my bucko,” Dick muttered fiercely. “All -your dirty scheming won’t do you a bit of good.” - -He put in an hour’s work with Hollister after dinner, and, laying out -enough to keep the man busy that afternoon, he got out the car and drove -down to the field. - -His first move was to seek out Tempest and Bill Fullerton, and for ten -minutes the three men remained in close confab. When they separated -there was a look of extreme satisfaction on Dick’s face. He hurried into -the athletic house to get into his togs. - -A little later, when the men were all assembled on the field, Don -Tempest held up his hand for silence. - -“You fellows all know that Hollister has been obliged to leave the -team,” he said quietly. “You also know why. It’s something which can’t -be helped, but I’m sure you will agree with me that it hits us pretty -hard and will make a big hole in the line. I’m sorry it couldn’t have -been postponed until after the game on Saturday, but since that was -impossible we’ll just have to make the best of it. In regard to filling -his place——” - -He hesitated and his eyes wandered over the eager, expectant faces of -the subs. Many of them knew that there was no possible chance of their -being picked for the important position, but there were three or four -who evidently had hopes. - -Jarvis Blake had more than hopes, if one could judge from the look of -assurance on his face. There was plainly small doubt in his mind that he -would be the lucky man, and Dick watched him with a distinct feeling of -satisfaction. - -“In talking it over,” Tempest continued, “we have decided that Keran had -better try out for end until further notice.” - -Blake gave a gasp of dismay. The blow was so sudden and so absolutely -unexpected that, for an instant, he could not believe his ears. - -Then his face turned scarlet, his eyes flashed, and he took a quick step -forward. Dick was watching him quietly. - -“I think——” began the big, blond fellow, speaking with evident -difficulty. - -Tempest eyed him coldly. - -“I said Keran,” he remarked significantly; “Phil Keran.” - -There was an undercurrent of contempt in his voice which cut Blake like -the lash of a whip and made him step back involuntarily. Before he could -recover his customary poise, the fellows spread out in the regular -formation, Keran, grinning from ear to ear, in the coveted place at -right end. - -Blake had never been so furious in his life. He could not understand how -it had all come about. For a moment he was tempted to leave the field. -He had even turned and was about to stride off without a word, when he -realized that such a move would be folly. He would gain nothing by it, -and his chances for ever accomplishing his end would be totally ruined. - -With a sullen scowl on his face, he walked over to his place on the -scrub. After all, Keran was only in the varsity on sufferance. He might -not make good, and then Blake’s chance would come. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - THE BEGINNING OF THE GAME. - - -It must not be supposed that Bob Hollister’s course was an easy one. It -was, on the contrary, desperately hard. A dozen times a day bitter -thoughts and regrets for what he had given up assailed him, but he -managed to thrust these aside, and, with Dick’s help, he kept doggedly -at his work, encouraged by the very evident progress he made in his -studies. - -The story of his renunciation of football and his steady application to -his books seemed to have become known to the faculty. Certain it was -that, one and all, they realized what an effort he was making to stick -with the class, and most of them did their best to help him along. - -As for Merriwell, every minute he could spare was devoted to coaching -Bob. The latter almost lived in Dick’s rooms. Every evening they went -over the work for the next day together, Dick patiently explaining every -point, bolstering up Hollister’s failing courage, making a regular -hermit of himself for the sake of the other man’s future. - -In the afternoons Bob spent his time grinding on the back work, for -occasionally the professors had an annoying way of having little quizzes -which covered the subjects they had gone over that term. - -That was the hardest part of it all, to sit alone with a book before -him, knowing all the time that the others were out on the field where he -longed to be more than anywhere else in the world. At first he had to -grit his teeth and exercise the utmost self-control to keep his mind -from wandering; but, after a little, it came easier, though he was never -wholly resigned. - -At last came the day of the Yale-Princeton game. Hollister wondered -desperately whether he would have to stay away from the field that -afternoon. It seemed as if that would be more than he could bear. In the -morning he broached the subject to Merriwell. - -“About the game this afternoon, Dick,” he began hesitatingly. “It don’t -seem as if I could study while that’s going on. Couldn’t I go down and -watch it, just this once?” - -Dick looked at him thoughtfully. - -“Do you think that’s a good idea, Bobby?” he asked slowly. “Wouldn’t you -feel worse on the field, not being able to play, than you would if you -stayed away?” - -“Gee, no!” exclaimed Hollister. “Even if I don’t play, there’d be some -satisfaction watching it.” - -“Come on, then,” Merriwell said quickly. “You’ve certainly done well -enough to take the afternoon off.” - -Thus it was that Hollister sat in the tonneau of Dick’s car as the -_Wizard_ tore down to the field that afternoon. Tempest and Blair -Hildebrand sat with him, Rudolph Rose crumpled his long legs in the body -of the car at their feet, while Teddy Baxter clung precariously to the -running board. - -Hollister felt a thrill of the old joyful enthusiasm as the car whirled -through the streets. Once more he seemed to be one of them, and, as he -entered the grounds and swept his eye over the already filling stands, -he sniffed the air like a war horse that scents combat from afar. - -But once in the dressing room, the reaction came. He saw the others -strip and hurriedly don their togs; listened to their eager, excited -discussion of their chances for victory; watched them troop out in a -body and lope across to the gridiron; and, as he followed slowly, -dispiritedly, he realized with a bitter pang that he was out of it. -Instead of plunging into the contest with tingling blood and every sense -alert, doing his best for his Alma Mater, straining every nerve to win a -victory for the blue, he must stand on the side lines and just watch. - -The thrilling, deep-toned cheers of the excited thousands would ring in -his ears as before, but they would have a different sound. They would be -meant for others, not for him. Somehow, he felt that if he could only -have played in this one game he could be resigned about never going on -the field again. If he could only show just once more what he could -do—play just one more game for all that was in him, and perhaps help to -win a victory, it would content him. - -But it was too late. He had given his word, and the team was finally -made up. With downcast eyes and bitter heart, he entered the inclosure -and, walking past the grand stands, dropped down on the side lines with -the subs. At least he would watch the game from the field. He couldn’t -bear sitting in a stand. He had never done that in all the time he had -first come out for the team. - -The stands were filled to overflowing, a sea of eager, enthusiastic -faces rising, tier upon tier, from the field. Flags fluttered by the -hundreds, blue, mostly, but with a liberal sprinkling of the orange and -black. The hum of many voices sounded like the drone of a gigantic hive -of bees. The flash of many faces turned impatiently toward the closed -gates as the hour approached. - -At last the gates were flung open and the teams appeared. Princeton came -first, and cantered briskly across the field. They were greeted by a -round of applause from their adherents. - -Then Yale appeared, and the stands rose to them with a yell which sent a -thrill through Hollister’s heart—a thrill followed swiftly by a stab of -pain. Perhaps Dick had been right when he said it would be harder here -than if he had stayed away. - -Yale won the toss, and, there being a rather brisk wind blowing, chose -the protected goal and gave the enemy the ball. The fellows swiftly took -their places to await the kick off. Presently the whistle sounded, and -from that moment Bob Hollister was oblivious to time and space, the -shouting crowd, the excited subs—everything, in short, except the -progress of the contest before him. - -Almost at once he saw that Princeton had an unusually strong team. He -had expected something of the sort, for all reports agreed in stating -that it was the best eleven the New Jersey college had turned out in -several years; but Hollister had not thought it would be quite so good -as it now appeared. - -With knitted brows, he watched the progress of the ball down the field -toward Yale’s goal. There was no doubt in his mind that the -orange-and-black fellows had made the most of some very efficient -coaching. Their teamwork was splendid, and every now and then they made -use of some novel play which caused Hollister to bestow upon them a -sincere, if somewhat grudging, admiration. - -But presently he ceased to watch their good points and bent an anxious, -scrutinizing eye upon his former comrades. Something seemed to be the -matter with their playing. A subtle, impalpable something, hard to -define, but plainly evident to the quick mind of the man on the side -line. - -There was a slight absence of snap, of unity, which perhaps another -might not have seen. Hollister was entirely too modest to realize that -his absence from the team could make any difference. He did not see that -the lack of his swift, perfect brainwork, his cheering encouragement, -would be felt to any appreciable extent. And yet, that was actually the -case. - -Merriwell was playing a perfect game, Buckhart was at his best; but they -could not carry the whole team. Don Tempest, still not perfectly strong -after his long illness, and feeling the lack of the practice which he -had lost, did not make a very good showing. While Phil Keran, though he -was a good steady player and did his best, could never take the place of -Hollister, one of the best ends Yale had ever had. - -Slowly the ball was forced back. Nearer and nearer it came to the goal. -Bob’s heart leaped into his throat and he could not swallow. They must -not make a goal—they must not! - -Then the line stiffened, the advance ceased. Two downs brought barely -five yards gain. Not daring to risk another forward pass, Princeton -tried a kick from the field. - -The ball soared over the heads of the scrimage line. To Hollister, -tense, breathless, it seemed as if it would pass over the bar, and he -groaned aloud as the orange-and-black line surged forward in its wake. - -The groan changed to a gasp of joy as the pigskin carromed from an -upright and a tall, lithe figure leaped into the air, clutched it and -dropped back. - -It was Merriwell. Bob could have shouted aloud in his relief had he not -been too intent on watching the outcome. For an instant the men were so -involved in a tangle of flying figures and waving arms that he could not -see what had become of the ball. - -Then, all at once, a man darted around the end, closely followed by two -others, and sped over the ground in an oblique course toward the farther -side line. - -In an instant Bob recognized him as Crowfoot, and realized that Dick had -in some way passed the ball swiftly to the Indian, who, assisted by -Elwell and Kenny, the quarter back, was covering the ground like a -streak of light. - -Kenny was bowled over instantly; Elwell met his Waterloo a minute -afterward; but by the time Crowfoot was tackled by one of the Princeton -guards he had covered thirty yards and the ball was back out of danger. - -Then the whistle sounded and Hollister realized that the first quarter -was over. - -After the brief three-minute interval, Yale started in with a rush, -carrying the ball down the field in a series of brilliant plays which -did full credit to every man on the team. - -They seemed to have recovered from their strange lassitude and were -evidently determined to utterly annihilate their opponents. - -But that was not to be done easily. Oddly enough, Princeton blandly -refused to be annihilated. And so the hard-fought battle continued. Back -and forth surged the lines of tattered, gasping, breathless men. At one -moment it would seem that Yale had the advantage, and apparently nothing -could prevent her from scoring. Then Princeton would rally and force the -blue line slowly, but surely, back from the danger zone. - -To the man on the side line it was sheer agony. His trained eye saw the -weak points of his team even more swiftly than did Tempest, the captain. -His alert brain, feverishly active, took in lost opportunities which the -men on the field did not even perceive, and he was constantly thinking -of how he would have made a successful play if he had only been out -there with the rest. - -Then began a series of minor accidents which played havoc with the Yale -line. First of all, Rose was knocked senseless and had to leave the -field. Then Samp Elwell twisted his ankle so that he could not stand on -it; and another sub threw off his enveloping blanket, jerked off his -sweater, and raced into the arena in response to Tempest’s peremptory -gesture. - -Last of all, Phil Keran gave out, and, after a momentary hesitation, -Tempest reluctantly summoned Jarvis Blake from the side line. He was the -best man left, and, perhaps, had it not been for what he had heard from -Dick about the fellow, Tempest might have put him in before; for Blake -had always showed up well in practice. - -As Hollister saw his enemy race out and take his own place at right end, -he clenched his fists so tightly that the nails cut into the flesh of -his palm. This was the worst of all. Blake was now just where he had -been scheming to get. - -Then the teams lined up and Bob forgot even that. It became apparent at -once that the change had not been for the better. Princeton had been -obliged to put in only one substitute, and her advantage showed very -plainly. - -Strive as the Yale line did against them, the solid phalanx of the -opposing team made its way inexorably down the field. There were -occasional rallies, to be sure, but never once did the orange and black -fail to make their required gain; and at last, with a sob in his throat, -Hollister saw the pigskin forced over the line and heard the Princeton -crowd thundering its joy. - -The goal was kicked, and, before the second quarter was over, Princeton -had scored again on a drop kick, and was nine points to the good. - -Things looked very black for Yale. - -Hollister did not leave his place on the grass. He could not bring -himself to go back to the house with the team. He had not the heart. And -so he lay there viciously jabbing the blade of his knife into the -ground, his brow drawn into a scowl, his brown eyes full of a strange -mixture of longing and pain. - -He had been watching Blake’s playing, and it had taken him only a few -moments to see how much it fell short of his own. Hollister was not in -the least conceited, but he had a keen sense of sizing a fellow up on -the field and had always viewed his own good points and shortcomings as -dispassionately as he did those of any one else. - -Watching Jarvis Blake, he knew that he himself could have done better. -Blake was a good player, but he was deficient in some important -qualifications, principally initiative and speed in starting. - -Time and time again, Bob saw him fail to take advantage of an -opportunity which might have meant a gain of yards to his team. Once, in -his excitement, he had shouted a warning to the substitute, only to -realize what he was doing and choke himself into silence. - -The third quarter started off with a fresh swing. The rest had done all -the men good, and evidently there had been some straight talk in the -athletic house which heartened them and brought them to a realizing -sense of the gravity of their position. - -The ball was forced down to within the thirty-yard line without a pause. -Hollister, watching eagerly, soon saw whose brain was dominating the -work. Almost every time the pigskin was passed to Merriwell. And, with -quite as much regularity, the brilliant senior responded nobly. - -He seemed to be everywhere at once, slippery as an eel, dodging hither -and thither in a most bewildering fashion, sometimes passing the ball to -Crowfoot, or another on whom he could depend, but always making gains, -ever advancing, until Bob found himself sitting erect, his cheeks -burning and his eyes sparkling as he watched this amazing exhibition of -almost perfect football. - -Would he make it? Could he possibly hold out to reach the line? Suddenly -his question was answered. - -The quarter back ripped out a rapid signal which Bob could not hear -perfectly; the ball was snapped back; there was a bewildering, -lightninglike, intricate pass. Hollister gasped. It was his improved -crisscross play, the last thing he had worked out before he had left the -team. - -The pigskin seemed to leap from one man to another like a thing endowed -with life. For a minute he lost track of it, and then he caught his -breath swiftly as Merriwell sprang out of the mêlée, the pigskin tucked -under his arm, and raced over the turf as if he were as fresh as the -moment he had first set foot on the field. - -The Princeton crowd was taken by surprise. The pass had been so cleverly -made that most of them thought the ball was being sent around the other -end, and there was a surging rush in that direction, which left a -comparatively free field for Dick. - -Too late they saw their error and trailed after him. - -There were but two men between him and the coveted goal. He could easily -outdistance the first, who was a little to one side, but the full back -would have to be dodged. - -As he ran, he watched the man keenly, wondering just what trick he would -have to bring into play to get away from him. The fellow stood alertly -on his toes, watching, waiting, ready to spring to one side or the -other, as the case might be. - -Dick came on without slackening his speed, swerved suddenly to the -right, whirled, darted the other way, and all in such a brief moment -that to this day Princeton’s full back hasn’t the least notion of how he -was fooled. He only knew that by the time he had turned Dick was a dozen -feet away, speeding on toward the goal. - -The next instant the full back gave a grunt of triumph and stretched -himself, for the Yale man suddenly staggered, tried wildly to recover, -and then fell full length to the sod. - -A groan of horror went up from the stands, followed by deathlike -stillness. - -Then, to the amazement of the onlookers, they saw that, instead of lying -where he had fallen, Merriwell spun end over end, and the next instant -he was on his feet again. But he ran with an appreciable limp. - -It was a tense moment. The full back was gaining. Slowly, but surely, he -crept up and the distance between the two lessened. Dick ran with more -and more apparent effort, and it was plain to all that he must be -suffering tortures. - -Now the full back’s fingers touched him, but could find no hold on the -smooth canvas. The next instant they clutched his waist, and clung there -with a firm, dragging grip. - -Five yards more! Could he ever make it? - -Struggling, dragging, straining every nerve and muscle, Merriwell flung -himself over the line; and, as he did so, a great sigh arose from the -spectators, merging into a crashing burst of sound, for they realized -that the ball was over. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - A BROKEN PROMISE AND A VICTORY. - - -Despite his sprained ankle, Merriwell kicked the goal, straight and -true, and the teams lined up again. But that run had been a last -desperate attempt to wrest victory from defeat. - -Unable to count longer on Dick, who, though he was still able to play, -could not be expected to continue the extraordinary efforts which had -made him an object of wonder to every man on the field, the team went to -pieces as nearly as any Yale team can. - -They played despairingly, doggedly, disputing every inch on the part of -the Princeton organization, but for all that being borne slowly down the -field. - -The ginger was gone out of them. They had no life, and their playing had -become more or less machinelike. - -Bob Hollister realized this swiftly. He knew the signs only too well. - -“They can’t do it!” he almost sobbed. “They can’t beat them that way!” - -If he could only go into the game. Just for that last quarter. Surely it -could not do any harm. He must do it. He could not sit there and see the -fellows beaten. - -The third quarter was nearly over when he leaped to his feet, his face -white and determined, and ran swiftly toward the house. Dashing inside, -he encountered Keran, his face a network of scowling lines, his fists -clenched, and one foot tied up in bandages. - -“Gimme your clothes!” Hollister exclaimed. “Quick!” - -“What——” gasped Keran. - -“Blazes!” ripped out the excited fellow. “Your clothes, I tell you! Get -’em off! Mine aren’t here!” - -With an exclamation of joy, the other realized what he meant to do. -Snatching off his jacket and jersey, he tossed them to Bob, who was -already half undressed. - -“Glory be!” he cried. “You’re going to play! You’ll brace ’em up!” - -Hollister made no answer. His eyes were gleaming. One thought only was -in his mind. He must get into those togs and back to the field before -the beginning of the last quarter. He meant to play if he never did -another thing in all his life. His promise to Merriwell was forgotten. -He thought of nothing but that line of gasping, tattered men out there, -striving vainly against black defeat. - -With eager, trembling fingers, Keran helped him lace his jacket. Rudolph -Rose staggered up from where he lay full length on a bench, and, -dropping down on the floor, laced up his shoes. Neither of them spoke a -word, for words were unnecessary. They understood. - -In a miraculously short time Bob was ready, and, snatching up a nose -guard, he tore out of the house. - -Bill Fullerton, his face black as a thundercloud, was talking to Tempest -on the side lines. The brief intermission was almost over as Bob dashed -up to them. - -“I want to go in, Don!” he exclaimed. - -Both men looked at him in astonishment. - -“I thought——” Tempest began. - -“Never mind that,” Hollister interrupted. “I’ve got to go in! That’s the -only way. The fellows have gone all to pieces since Merriwell hurt -himself!” - -Still the captain of the varsity hesitated. He knew quite well of the -promise Hollister had made Merriwell that he would not play football -again during his college course. - -“I swear to you, Don, by all that’s holy,” Bob said earnestly, “that if -you let me play out this game I’ll never touch football again! It’s only -fifteen minutes, Don! Just fifteen little minutes! If I sit here -watching it, I shall go mad. Let me play, Don.” - -His pleading voice quivered with the emotion which was tearing him. - -Tempest was in somewhat of a quandary. He wanted to put Hollister in, -for he felt that it was barely possible that Bob might succeed in -putting spirit into the jaded, discouraged men. He was fresh, too, and -wrought up to a white heat of enthusiasm. It would be strange if he did -not accomplish something. Don glanced at Fullerton questioningly. - -The coach nodded emphatically. - -“It’s the only thing that can possible save the day,” he said decidedly. -“Better let him in.” - -“Who——” - -“Blake, of course!” Fullerton said tersely. “He’s rotten!” - -Hollister’s face lit up joyfully as he listened to this brief -conversation. Then the signal came, and there was a general movement to -get out on the field. - -Tempest walked rapidly to Blake’s side and said a few words to him in a -low tone. The big, blond fellow flushed scarlet and darted a venomous -glance at Bob. Then, without a word, he turned on his heel and walked -rapidly toward the athletic house, his face sullen, and the angry flush -still in his cheeks. - -Hollister followed the other men with a springy step and a heart fairly -bursting with joy. At last he was back with the boys. It seemed almost -as if he had never left them. He did not worry over the fact that, after -these brief, fleeting minutes were over, he could never play again. He -only knew that the team was in a bad way and needed him, and he resolved -that he would play as he had never played before. - -One after the other the fellows recognized him and greeted him with -short, hurried words, which were an odd blending of surprise, joy, and -relief; but all had such a ring of sincerity and truth that Hollister -was more touched than he would have thought possible. - -He dared not meet Merriwell’s glance. He had broken his promise, and he -was not sorry; he hated to think of what Dick’s opinion of him would be -from this time forth. - -Then, as he crouched in his place, he forgot Merriwell, forgot -everything but the fact that he was back in the line again. - -“Are you all ready?” asked the referee. - -There was no reply. Only here and there a foot moved uneasily as weights -were thrown forward, and there was a general, almost imperceptible, -tightening of nerves and muscles. - -Then the whistle shrilled. - -Those who watched the game that day said afterward that, in all their -experience, they had never seen such an amazing rallying on the part of -any team as was shown by the Yale eleven during that last quarter. - -Three minutes before they had gone off the field with dragging steps and -gloomy, discouraged faces. The followers of the blue, who crowded the -stands, felt a wave of despair sweep over them as they thought of what -might happen in that last fifteen minutes. Many of them fully expected -to see Princeton make another touchdown, if not two, and they waited -with perfunctory, mechanical cheers, and swiftly ebbing spirit for the -beginning of the end. - -But the sudden, totally unexpected appearance of Hollister seemed to -work almost a miracle. - -Bob responded nobly. Never had he put up such a game before. Tireless, -never failing, swift as lightning, with his brain in splendid working -order, he seemed to be all over the field at once. Dodging, slipping -through holes in the line where one would not have thought any advance -possible, blocking, cutting off opposing runners, and interfering for -runners of his own team, it seemed as if all the pent-up, thwarted -energy of the last few days of deprivation was being poured out now in -this brief, brilliant exhibition. - -His work thrilled the other men with a new hope, and stirred them to -fresh endeavor, so that they were with him heart and soul; and the -pigskin was rushed down the field swiftly and irresistibly, until the -forty-yard line was reached. - -Here the orange-and-black fellows seemed to recover, and, rallying, -presented such a solid line that two downs brought barely six yards; and -Yale had to resort to a drop kick, which sent the ball forward thirty -yards, but gave it to Princeton. - -Then the great struggle of the day began. Inspired by the brilliant -Hollister, Yale made a strenuous, dogged effort to score, while her -opponents were equally determined that she should not. Back and forth -surged the lines of men, never reaching within kicking distance of -either goal, and using up the precious minutes in fiercely contesting -every inch of progress. - -It was a battle royal, and the spectators were so thrilled with interest -and excitement that they almost forgot to cheer. - -At last, when there were but six minutes left to play, Kenny decided to -make use of one of the most intricate and most daring of the -combinations of double plays and crisscrossing which the coaches had -worked out from Hollister’s suggestion. It was only to be used as a last -resort, and Kenny decided that the time had come. - -“Sixty-seven—twenty-four—thirty-two——” - -Kenny paused. Merriwell sprang back a yard. Buckhart crept a few feet -in. - -“Fifty-four—seventeen!” finished Kenny swiftly. - -The ball was snapped, Brad ran forward three strides, Kenny turned, and -the pigskin flew back. The next instant Merriwell had the ball, and sped -toward the right end of the line. The quarter crossed in front of him; -the tackle and guard thrust back their opponents; the Princeton line -surged forward with a rush. - -Hollister plunged forward, too, as if he were intent only on interfering -in Merriwell’s behalf; but he had a more important duty than that to -perform. Swiftly, before their opponents realized what was being done, -he and Dick changed places, Merriwell was blocking with all his might, -while Hollister, the ball clutched tightly to him, sped round, shot -through and out onto the field, leaving a mass of waving legs and arms -many yards behind. - -Joy was the supreme sensation in Bob’s breast. Only the Princeton full -back threatened. The ball was safely clutched in his right arm, his -breath came easily, his legs were strong, and the goal posts loomed down -the field and beckoned him on. This, he thought exultingly, was the best -moment that life could give. - -Behind, although he could not hear it for the din of shouting from the -stands, he knew the pursuit to be in full cry. He edged farther out from -the dangerous touch line and sped on. The Princeton full back had been -deceived by the play, and had gone farther up the field for a kick, and -now down he came at full speed. - -Hollister seemed to hesitate and falter. The full back prepared to -tackle. His broad back was bent far over, his sturdy legs squared -themselves, and, when Bob was almost within his reach, he dove forward. - -There was a sudden gasp from the spectators, a breathless hush, and then -a thunderous roar of joy, as Hollister leaped high in the air, cleared -the hooking arms, stumbled, got his balance again, and ran on, free, the -ball still cupped in the curve of his arm. - -The momentary pause had served to bring the foremost of the other -pursuers almost to Bob’s heels. - -And now the plucky end began to feel the effects of his strenuous work. -His breath came irregularly, his throat was parching, his legs ached -with every bound, but still he never wavered. Behind him sounded the -thud of relentless feet. He dared not look back lest he stumble. Every -second he expected to feel the clutch of the enemy. Presently he gave up -trying to breathe; it was too hard. His head was swimming and his lungs -seemed bursting. - -Then his wandering faculties rushed back at a bound as he fancied he -felt a touch—just the lightest fingering—and, gathering all his -remaining strength, he increased his pace for a few steps. - -The ten-yard line passed, slowly, reluctantly. - -“One more,” he thought. “Only one more!” - -The great stands were hoarse with shouting, for here ended the game. - -Nearer and nearer crept the five-yard line; nearer and nearer crept the -pursuers. Once more Hollister called upon his strength, and tried to -draw away, but it was useless. And, with the goal line but four yards -distant, stout arms were clasped tightly around his waist. - -One—two—three strides he made. The goal line writhed before his dizzy -sight. Relentlessly the clutching grasp fastened tighter and tighter -about him like bands of steel, and settled lower and lower until his -legs were clasped and he could move no farther. Despairingly he thrust -the ball out at arm’s length, and tried to throw himself forward; the -trampled turf rose to meet him, and then blackness came. - -Bob’s first waking thought was that he must be back on the rocky shores -of Maine, where he had spent the past summer. Surely those were breakers -which roared and thundered in his ears. Then he opened his eyes, and -found that he was lying on the sod, a sweater under his head, and -several vaguely familiar faces swimming above him. - -A moment later he knew that it was not surf, but the wild yelling and -cheering of excited, enthusiastic thousands. Back and forth rolled the -mighty torrents of sound, breaking and crashing in reverberations. - -Suddenly there was a pause, and then a fresh outburst, this time -deliberate and controlled: - -“Rah, rah rah! Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah! Hollister! Hollister! -Hollister!” - -No need to tell him in so many words that the ball had gone over. This -was enough. They were cheering for him, and, as he opened his eyes -again, something like a mist came over them. Presently this cleared -away, and he found himself looking into Merriwell’s face. - -“How are you feeling, old fellow?” the senior asked anxiously. “Hurt any -place? Or is it just wind you want?” - -Hollister smiled. - -“That’s all,” he said quickly. “Be all right in a minute.” - -He hesitated for an instant. - -“Say, Dick.” - -Merriwell bent lower. - -“Yes?” he questioned. - -“I couldn’t help it, old man,” Bob said in a low tone. “I broke my -promise, and I reckon you must think me an awful rotter. I held out as -long as I could; but you needed me, Dick, and I couldn’t sit there and -see the fellows licked. But it’s the last time.” - -“Do you really mean that, Bob?” Merriwell asked slowly. “Don’t you think -that the next game you see will tempt you just as you have been tempted -to-day?” - -Hollister shook his head decidedly. - -“No, sir!” he said emphatically. “I’m through. This is the last. I’ll be -content now to cut it out for good. I’ve shown what I could do, and——” - -Another thunderous burst of cheering came from the stands. - -“Hollister! Hollister! Hollister!” - -“Not even for that would I break my word to you again, Merriwell. You -believe me, don’t you, old fellow?” - -For an instant Dick gazed keenly into the anxious eyes of his friend. -Then his face cleared and a smile curved the corners of his mouth. - -“Sure,” he said simply. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - A CHARGE OF BIRD SHOT. - - -It was late afternoon. Dick and several of his friends were enjoying a -brief holiday after the football season. The sun had dropped below the -line of forest trees, but its golden rays slanted through the naked -ranks of oak and chestnut and hickory, casting long, grotesque shadows -on the mottled blanket of dead leaves which covered the earth. Here and -there a white birch gleamed with startling distinctness against a dark -background of spruce or pine. - -The few remaining leaves rustled crisply in the sharp breeze which came -from the distant Sound. Now and then one of them, loosened from its -hold, sailed slowly and silently downward in many erratic circles, -coming to rest at length on the thick carpet of red and yellow and -golden brown. - -The tang of autumn was in the air. The sense of nature’s decay was -evident everywhere. The very smell of fall, subtle and impalpable, but -nevertheless unmistakable, was in the nostrils of the five men who -rustled, single file, along the scarcely perceptible path which wound -through the trees. - -Even Lysander Cobmore, the lean, wrinkled, weatherworn farmer who led -the way, felt it in his blood, though he was not, perhaps, so acutely -conscious of it as were the four Yale men who followed him. He viewed -the coming of autumn with more or less mixed feelings. It heralded the -approach of a long season of rest and hibernation which would be welcome -after the strenuous work of the past summer. But it also meant snow and -ice and many days of bitter cold when one would not venture far from the -glowing kitchen stove. However, the crops had been successfully -harvested and were under cover, and he was content to take things easy -until the coming of the spring should start the ball rolling again. - -To Dick Merriwell and his three college mates, Brad Buckhart, Eric -Fitzgerald, and Teddy Baxter, there was almost a feeling of intoxication -in the crisp, cool air which sent their blood racing through their -veins; in the delightful, earthy, leafy smell of everything; even in the -gaunt, wintry look of the naked trees through which one could follow so -easily the whirring flight of the partridge, or the swift, low scurry of -a covey of quail. - -They had escaped the trammels of work for a few days’ shooting, and were -like a party of schoolboys as they left Dick’s car, the _Wizard_, in one -of Cobmore’s barns and followed their guide with springy steps and -eagerly sniffing nostrils through the rustling woods toward the spot -where they proposed to make their headquarters. - -“The house hasn’t been vacant very long, then?” Dick remarked presently. - -“Three weeks gone ter-morrer since old man Hickey was buried,” returned -Cobmore, without glancing around. “Fur all he lived so long alone, you -folks’ll find everythin’ neat’s a pin. I’ve bin over twice sence young -Lawrence give me charge of it, an’ thar ain’t a thing out of place.” - -“Is that Barry Lawrence?” Merriwell asked quickly. - -“Yep. Know him?” - -“Yes; he’s a Yale man. You remember him, don’t you, Brad? He graduated -three years ago.” - -“You bet I do,” returned the Texan promptly. “Didn’t he play end on the -varsity? Nice chap, too.” - -“What relation was he to Mr. Hickey?” Dick inquired. - -“Nephy. Folks was sorter surprised when Hickey left everythin’ to him -an’ cut out his darter’s husband, Andy Jellison, but I kinder smelled a -rat myself, knowin’ that they wan’t on speakin’ terms sence the darter -died three years ago come next spring. They do say he treated her like a -dog, an’ she wan’t in her grave two months before he up an’ married -another woman. Andy done his best to make up with the old man, but it -wan’t no use. Reckon he was thinkin’ o’ the spondulicks the old man -would leave—he had a tidy little pile besides the place—an’ I s’pose he -was arter his share. - -“Well, I remember the first time he come for a visit arter the darter -died. He driv over to my place from the village an’ put his team up in -the barn. Had a couple of grips with him an’ I nachurally thinks he’d -want help to git ’em over, but don’t you believe it. Said he’d go by -himself. I wan’t so surprised when I happens to lift up one o’ the grips -an’ finds it light’s a feather. Couldn’t have bin nothin’ in it at all, -though why he wants to lug two empty grips three miles through the -woods, goodness knows. - -“Howsomever, that was his business, an’ I didn’t ask no questions, -though I couldn’t help wonderin’. He starts off about five o’clock, an’ -drat my buttons if he wan’t back about sundown, cussin’, swearin’ mad. -He was a turrible profane man, was Jellison, but that night he beat the -record. He calls Hickey all the names on the calendar, and got so bad I -had to shet the kitchen door so Maria wouldn’t hear him, she bein’ a -good church member an’ pious. - -“When he calms down a bit I finds that the old man wouldn’t let him in -the house. Said he never wanted to set eyes on him ag’in, an’ told him -to go to the hot place, I reckon. Andy had to stop with me that night, -an’ next mornin’ he went back to the city, where he works in a bank. - -“Well, sir, all that summer he kep’ tryin’ to make up with old Hickey. -‘Bout every two weeks he’d show up for another try, but it wan’t any -use. I could ‘a’ told him he was wastin’ his time, fer when the old man -made up his mind, he stayed sot. But it wan’t none o’ my business, so I -jest let him keep on ‘till he found out hisself. As I says, he kep’ -comin’ all summer long, an’ then, about this time two years gone, he giv -it up, an’ I ain’t seen him sence. I allus wondered though why in time -he kep’ packin’ them empty grips along with him; but I ain’t never -discovered it, an’ don’t reckon I ever will.” - -Merriwell smiled at the old fellow’s tone of regret. - -“Maybe he had left some clothes, or something like that, in the house, -which he wanted to take away,” he suggested. - -Lysander Cobmore considered this for a moment in silence. Then he shook -his head slowly. - -“That don’t seem nachural, some ways,” he returned. “Old man Hickey was -that set agin’ Jellison he’d ‘a’ throwed anythin’ he owned outer the -winder.” - -“On account of the way he behaved to the daughter, I suppose?” Dick -mused. - -Cobmore wagged his stubby chin whisker emphatically. - -“That’s what,” he returned quickly. “Some said he took to runnin’ with -this other woman, an’ that’s what killed her. Waal, I ain’t sorry the -way things has turned out. Jellison ain’t the sort of man I like to have -dealings with. Tew cantankerous, you know. Now Lawrence is a nice, -pleasant-spoken young feller, an’ lets me make what I kin, lettin’ the -house to folks as is out huntin’ like you boys. ’Tain’t likely Jellison -would——” - -He broke off abruptly as the crash of a gun sounded with startling -distinctness from the silent woods. The next instant came a pattering -shower of fine shot which cut the twigs and branches of the near-by -bushes, and caused each man to duck instinctively. - -Merriwell was the first of the party to recover his presence of mind. - -“Stop that, you lunatic!” he shouted, his face dark with anger. - -“Came mighty near losing an eye,” growled Buckhart, wiping away a drop -of blood where one of the shots had grazed his face. - -“Come out here and show yourself!” cried Fitzgerald, replacing the soft -felt hat which had been knocked off. - -“Yes, consarn ye!” exclaimed Lysander Cobmore, shaking a lean fist -toward the woods. “What in time d’ye mean?” - -There was no reply, but Merriwell’s keen ear caught a faint rustling -among the leaves. - -“I’m going to see who the idiot is,” he said, in a low tone. “If we’re -to stay around here, we can’t be running the risk of being shot in the -back any minute.” - -Without waiting for a reply, he darted through the undergrowth and -disappeared. Brad was at his heels, and a moment later the remainder of -the party heard a smothered exclamation, followed by the sound of -talking, in which they distinguished the tones of a strange voice. - -Then the crashing through the bushes was resumed, and presently three -figures appeared in sight. Fitzgerald chuckled suddenly. - -“Pipe the willie-boy, Teddy,” he said, in a low tone. “Wouldn’t that -frost you! Bet he took us for deer.” - -“He looks like the kind that would,” Baxter returned, with a grin. - -They watched with considerable curiosity the approach of the stranger, -who walked between Brad and Dick and was talking in a high-pitched, -excited voice. - -He was small and undersized, with stooping shoulders and a rather -insignificant face. He was dressed from head to foot in khaki, which was -very palpably brand new and made him ludicrously resemble one of the -wooden dummies which tailors use to show off their goods. - -Apparently he had gone into a sporting-goods establishment and purchased -everything the clerk offered, even to a revolver which hung in a leather -holster at one side of the broad belt, and a large hunting knife stuck -into the other. In one gloved hand he held a double-barrel, -sixteen-gauge shotgun which he clasped by the end of the barrel, letting -the stock drag through the leaves behind him. - -“Grathious thakes!” he lisped excitedly, as he came up to the path. “I -was never tho dithurbed in all my life. I give you my word I thought ith -wath a deer, or I thould never have fired in thith world.” - -Brad looked at him contemptuously. - -“I should think any fool would know the difference between a deer and -five men!” he snapped. “Besides, there aren’t any deer around here; and -if there were, how in thunder did you expect to hit one with that gun?” - -The stranger’s eyes widened with surprise. - -“You don’t thay tho!” he exclaimed in a distressed tone. “Why, I thought -there were deer all over.” - -“Did you expect to kill one with a sixteen-gauge shotgun?” Dick asked, a -twinkle in his eyes. - -The hunter looked puzzled. - -“What’th the matter with it?” he asked. “Theemth to me the bulletth are -big enough to kill anything.” - -Fitzgerald shrieked with laughter. - -“Bullets!” he cried hysterically. “He don’t know the difference between -shells and bullets!” - -Merriwell and Baxter smiled broadly. In spite of his anger, the Texan -could not repress a grin. Even Lysander Cobmore chuckled dryly. - -The stranger glanced from one laughing face to another, and then drew -himself up with a comical expression of dignity. - -“I can’t thay I thee the point,” he remarked stiffly. “Thomthing theems -to thrike you gentlemen ath very funny.” - -Fitz looked at his face and went off into another peal of laughter. - -“Do you really mean to say you thought the shells you put into your gun -consisted of a single bullet?” Dick asked quietly. - -“Why, I thuppothed tho,” the small man answered shortly. “I don’t know -that I thought much about it.” - -He rested one hand over the barrel of his gun as if it were a walking -stick. - -“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Merriwell said quickly. “That gun’s -loaded, isn’t it?” - -“Why, no. I jutht thot it off.” - -“Didn’t you have two shells in it?” Dick asked. - -The stranger suddenly snatched his hand away with a look of horror. - -“Bah Jove!” he cried excitedly. “You’re wight about that. Mercy thakes! -I might have thot a hole wight through my hand.” - -The thought of his narrow escape seemed to trouble him considerably more -than anything which had yet occurred. Dick reached forward, and, picking -up the gun, broke it and extracted the shell. - -“That’s the safest way,” he said quietly. “It’s much better not to walk -through the woods with your gun loaded.” - -Holding the shell in his hand, he took out a knife and slit the -pasteboard across, exposing the contents. - -“There’s what’s inside of it,” he explained, handing it to the stranger. - -The latter took it gingerly and inspected it with much curiosity. - -“Well, well,” he commented. “Tho thatth what it ith. A lot of little -bulletth. Quite a cute idea, ithn’t it? Giveth a chap more chance to hit -thomething, I thuppothe.” - -Fitzgerald threatening another outburst, Dick abruptly changed the -subject. - -“Are you stopping near here, Mr. ——” - -He paused significantly. - -“Jobloth,” supplied the stranger promptly. “Perthy Jobloth, of -Commonwealth Avenue, Bothton. No, I jutht came up for the day, but I -thuppoth there will be no trouble getting accomodations in the village -hotel.” - -Merriwell glanced at Cobmore rather dubiously. - -“Thar ain’t no hotel,” returned the farmer with twinkling eyes. - -Joblots looked aghast. - -“No hotel!” he gasped. “Grathiouth thaketh! Whatever thall I do? It’th -much too late to get back to the city.” - -“Yep,” Cobmore said with a distinct relish. “Ain’t no train now till -mornin’. You should hev took the five-ten.” - -He seemed to be extracting considerable amusement out of Mr. Percy -Joblots’ predicament. - -The latter was most distressed. - -“That’th what I meant to do,” he explained sadly; “but I got tho -interethted in my thooting, and the woodth looked tho lovely, that I -mithed it. My goodneth grathouth! I don’t know what to do. Whoever would -think there wath no hotel!” - -He looked so utterly woebegone and crestfallen that Dick felt sorry for -him. Of course they could take him in for the night, but he wasn’t -particularly anxious to have a stranger around who was apt to be a -damper on their fun. Still the man could not stay out in the woods all -night, and it seemed foolish to insist on his going back to Lysander -Cobmore’s when their own destination was so close at hand. - -He glanced questioningly at his three friends. They had quite as much -say as he had. - -Buckhart shrugged his shoulders indifferently; apparently it made no -difference to him what became of Mr. Joblots. Fitz nodded emphatically, -a broad grin on his expressive face. Evidently he saw possibilities for -mirth in the presence of the stranger. Baxter seemed not to care one way -or another. - -At least it would only be for one night, Dick reflected, turning to the -dapper little fellow. - -“You’d better come along with us, Mr. Joblots,” he said. “We are on our -way to a farmhouse which we are going to make our headquarters for a few -days. I imagine there will be room enough for you to stay to-night.” - -He glanced inquiringly at the farmer, who nodded. - -“Room an’ to spare,” he said tersely, “an’ you gents had better be -gittin’ on if you want to git thar before dark.” - -Percy Joblots was overjoyed. - -“That-th extremely kind of you,” he said gratefully. “It relievth me -from a motht unpleathant prediciment. I really don’t know what I thould -have done but for you, bah Jove!” - -“Well, that’s settled,” Dick said shortly, “and we’d better get on. My -name is Dick Merriwell, and these are my friends, Brad Buckhart, Eric -Fitzgerald, and Teddy Baxter, all of Yale.” - -“Delighted, I’m thure,” murmured Joblots, as the party resumed their way -along the path. “Of Yale! Dear me! How many dear friendth I have had -from New Haven.” - -“You didn’t graduate from there yourself, by any chance, did you?” -inquired Fitz. - -“No, I—er—wath educated at home by—er—tutorth,” returned the little -fellow hastily. - -“Perhaps you know some one who is there now,” persisted Fitzgerald. - -“Well, no, I think not. Motht of my friendth have graduated. Let me -thee, though. Do you know a chap named McCormick?” - -“Yes, of course,” returned Fitz quickly. “Archie McCormick. Dandy -fellow, he is, too. Know him?” - -Joblots hesitated. - -“Why, I——” - -He broke off abruptly as they emerged from the thicket into a wide -clearing which sloped gently down from the forest to the shores of a -beautiful little lake, whose waters, ruffled by the brisk breeze, -reflected the riotous crimson and gold of the autumn sunset until it -seemed almost like a radiant opal. - -A little way down the slope to their right loomed the spreading bulk of -a commodious, weatherworn farmhouse, with big, hospitable, chimneys and -many small paned windows, each one of which reflected the sunset in -flaming crimson until it looked as if the whole house was ablaze. - -“Waal, boys,” remarked Cobmore. “Here we be. This is Cranberry Lake, an’ -old man Hickey’s house still stands. I reckon you feel like gittin’ a -fire started an’ cookin’ grub. It’s nigh onto supper time.” - -“You’re right, there,” Fitzgerald said, smacking his lips. “This air has -given me such a thundering appetite I could pretty near eat the soles of -my shoes.” - -The farmer chuckled. - -“Ain’t quite that far gone, I expect,” he said. “You got somethin’ a bit -tastier than that to fall to on. Let’s git around to the front door.” - -The house faced the lake, and on that side was a narrow veranda which -ran the full width of the building. As they turned the corner they were -surprised beyond measure to see a tall figure rise from the steps and -look inquiringly toward them. - -The next instant Buckhart gave a sudden exclamation. - -“By thunder! If it isn’t Mac! What the mischief are you doing here, old -fellow?” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER X - - AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. - - -Archie McCormick hesitated for the fraction of a second and then laughed -heartily. - -“Well, of all the coincidences!” he exclaimed. “Dick, too, and Fitz and -Teddy! That doesn’t happen to be Barry Lawrence behind you, does it?” - -Dick looked a little surprised. - -“Lawrence? No,” he returned as they reached the steps. “This is Mr. -Percy Joblots, of Boston. I had an idea he was a friend of yours.” - -McCormick looked frankly puzzled, and, as Dick shot a quick glance at -Joblots, he caught an odd expression of keen alertness in his eyes which -was so much at variance with their usual blank inanity that the Yale man -was puzzled. The next instant it had disappeared and the dapper fellow -stepped forward with outstretched hand. - -“Delighted, I’m thure, Mr. McCormick,” he said. “I’ve heard about you -from thomebody, but at the moment I can’t for the life of me think which -of my friendth it wath.” - -“Glad to meet you,” McCormick said rather shortly. - -Then he turned quickly to Dick. - -“I was hoping Barry might be with you,” he said. “I met him in Hartford -yesterday, and we planned to come up here for a couple of days’ gunning. -You know he owns the shack here, and he was to be here at five o’clock. -I’ve been waiting here since a little after four, but haven’t seen hide -or hair of him. I was just beginning to think of breaking through a -window and making myself as comfortable as I could for the night, when -you appeared.” - -“That’s funny,” Dick said thoughtfully. “We came over with exactly that -same idea in view. Made arrangements with Cobmore here, who is -Lawrence’s agent, to take the place for the rest of the week. Did he say -anything to you about coming here himself?” - -He looked at Cobmore as he spoke, and the farmer shook his head -decidedly. - -“Nary a word,” he returned emphatically. “It’s news to me. He most -generally lets me know a couple of days before he wants it, so thar -won’t be nobody else here. Be you sure, young feller, it was Barry -Lawrence you made them arrangements with?” - -There was a faint, but unmistakable note of incredulity in his voice -which brought the color into McCormick’s face. - -“Of course it was,” he said tartly. “You don’t think I’d take it upon -myself to come here without his invitation, do you? We made all the -arrangements last night, and would have come down together, but Barry -had to go to New York this morning and wasn’t sure what train he would -make back. So we decided to meet here. He said he wouldn’t be later than -five, but I suppose something has happened to detain him. Very likely -he’ll be down later.” - -“It’ll be a hang sight later, then,” the farmer grumbled, as he mounted -the steps and drew out a bunch of keys. “There ain’t no train on this -branch till te-rmorrer morning.” - -“What difference does it make, anyway?” Dick said lightly. “We’ll have a -bang-up time together, and if Lawrence shows up he’ll just have to join -in with us. After getting this far I don’t feel like turning around and -going back, especially when he hasn’t even appeared on the scene.” - -Cobmore turned the key in the lock and swung the door open. - -“Thar you be, gents,” he said. “Make yourselves to hum. You’ve got all -the grub you need to-night, an’ ter-morrer I’ll send Jake over with milk -and butter an’ a few eggs. I got to be gittin’ back, or the old lady’ll -raise my hair.” - -They bade him good night and he disappeared into the rapidly falling -shadows, while the young fellows trooped riotously into the house. - -On a stand in the hall they found a candle and matches, which they lit -at once and commenced a tour of inspection. - -It was a typical New England farmhouse of the better class, rather more -spacious, perhaps, than the majority, and certainly more rambling. The -original central building, square and severely plain, had been added to -from time to time, a room here, a wing there, until the size of the -house had been more than doubled. - -This effect was heightened by the long kitchen extension protruding at -the rear, which was connected, through the milk room and woodsheds, to -the big barn behind, so that the whole mass of buildings, all -weatherworn to a harmonious gray, had quite an imposing appearance. - -The explorers passed through a room on the right of the hall, which -seemed to have been used as a sitting room, and into the dining room -behind, which had evidently been the original kitchen. There was a huge -chimney here which was not plastered up as it is in many old houses, but -gaped wide, a glorious, cavernous opening so vast that it took up almost -the entire end of the room, and could accommodate five-foot logs with -ease. The hearth, which extended far out into the room, was made of -square stone slabs of varying sizes, all of which had been worn smooth -by the feet of many generations. - -“Gee! What a dandy fireplace!” Fitzgerald exclaimed, as he paused before -it in admiration. “The late Mr. Hickey certainly had good taste. Can’t -you imagine toasting your feet here of a cold winter’s night, with the -wind howling around outside and a regular blizzard raging?” - -“We’ll have to try it after supper,” Dick said. “We can’t scrape up a -blizzard for you, Fitz, but I expect it will be cold enough for a fire, -all the same.” - -“You bet your boots,” Buckhart put in. “I’m cold already.” - -“My goodneth, yeth!” agreed Joblots, shivering in his resplendant -hunting suit. “No furnace heat, I thuppoth.” - -Fitz snickered, and they passed on to the kitchen, which proved to be -fitted up with a modern range and all the conveniences. In fact, the -whole house was comfortably furnished to the smallest detail, and -everything was so clean and neat and attractive that the fellows were -highly elated at their good fortune. - -“It’s too comfortable altogether,” Baxter said, as they congregated in -the kitchen, unpacking the supplies they had brought along. “We won’t -feel as if we were camping out at all.” - -“You have my full permission to spread a blanket out in the grass, my -child, if this is too rich for your blood,” Fitz remarked as he perched -himself on the table and proceeded to slice bacon. “Me for the comforts -of home, though, when they’re around. Camping out is all very nice when -you’ve got to; but I fail to see the fun in waking up so stiff you can -hardly move, with a cold in your head, sand all through your clothes, -and covered from head to foot with nasty, itching bites from black flies -or mosquitoes.” - -“Oh, come off, little one!” Buckhart put in. “It’s clear you’re not wise -to the real joys of camping out when you talk like that. Who cares for -such little things as black flies and sand when you’re lying on a bed of -balsam boughs, wrapped up in a good blanket, with your feet to the fire -and three or four good chums around to talk to or not, as you like? -Nothing but the stars above your head, no walls to keep you from -breathing all of God’s clean air you can get into your lungs. I tell -you, tender one, that’s the best sort of a life to live. You hear me -gently warble!” - -“Sounds good,” Fitz retorted airily; “but how about the times when there -aren’t any stars above your head and when God’s clean rain washes you -off that nice balsam bed and gives you a bath when you’d a heap sight -rather stay dirty. Not for this child! I have a foolish preference for a -roof over me and some kind of a mattress, even if it’s only corn husks, -to sleep on.” - -Buckhart was about to make an emphatic rejoinder when he caught Dick’s -laughing eyes. - -“You’re wasting your breath, old fellow,” the latter said quickly. “Fitz -is awfully fond of hearing himself talk, but don’t ever ask him to go -camping if you don’t expect to be taken up.” - -“Slander,” retorted the slim chap; “vile slander!” - -He dived into the basket of provisions and brought forth a bottle -wrapped in a newspaper. - -“Pickles!” he exclaimed, holding it up. “Joy of my heart! How blessed of -you, Richard, to remember my fondness——” - -He stopped abruptly as his quick eye caught something on the printed -page which was around the bottle. For a moment there was silence. Then -his eyes widened alarmingly and his whole face took on an expression of -mock horror as he fixed an accusing glare on the placid countenance of -Archie McCormick. - -“Oh, gay deceiver!” he exclaimed severely. “Oh, sly fox! Oh, foolish -mortal to think you could keep a secret from the sharp eyes of Desperate -Desmond, the Demon Detective of—er—Duluth.” - -McCormick grinned. - -“Discovered!” he moaned. “And I thought I had covered me tracks so well! -Out with it, Dessy. Keep me no longer in suspenders.” - -Fitzgerald rolled his eyes ceilingward. - -“All day long have I felt a presentiment of approaching evil,” he -groaned. “This morning a perfectly black cat winked at me——” - -“The saucy thing!” interrupted Baxter. “I hope it wasn’t a lady cat.” - -“Winked at me,” continued Fitz, frowning at him; “and that is always a -bad omen. But I never thought of this. Even when you announced your trip -to Hartford two days ago upon a most flimsy pretext, I did not suspect, -but now I know.” - -He paused and glared again at McCormick who was grinning from ear to -ear. By this time the others were rather curious; Percy Joblots, in -particular, sat gaping in astonishment, apparently not knowing quite how -to take the erratic Fitzgerald. - -“Spit it out, why don’t you?” demanded Buckhart. “You’ll throw a fit if -you don’t.” - -Fitz swallowed hard and rolled his eyes again. - -“It’s my sympathetic nature struggling with an innate sense of justice,” -he explained. “But justice triumphs. I know now why you made that -mysterious trip to Hartford. On this scrap of paper placed -providentially before my eyes—redeemed thus from the ignomy of being a -mere wrapper of plebeian pickles, I see a horrible—an appalling—thing.” - -He paused again, dramatically, and Buckhart, exasperated beyond -endurance, made a sudden dive for him. The slim chap leaped from the -table and slipped around behind it. - -“Peace, creature!” he declaimed. “Listen to my news. The Second National -Bank of Hartford was robbed last night of thirty thousand dollars in -cold cash!” - -For a moment there was silence. Then a roar of laughter went up. - -“You’re pinched, Mac,” Dick gasped. “Desperate Desmond has found you -out.” - -“Yes, bucko,” the Texan exclaimed; “better confess and divvy up the -swag.” - -McCormick flushed a little, and the smile on his pleasant face grew a -bit forced. - -“Looks that way, doesn’t it?” he said, in a bantering tone. “I didn’t -know he was so smart.” - -At that moment Merriwell, happening to glance at Percy Joblots, noticed -that he was watching McCormick covertly, but with a strange intentness. -In his eyes was that curious look of keenness which Dick had seen once -before that night. - -But even as he looked, the expression disappeared and the dapper -fellow’s face resumed its customary repose. - -“But, I thay!” he exclaimed, turning to Fitzgerald. “Thurely you don’t -weally mean that?” - -The slim chap choked and turned red, but his face was quite serious. - -“Isn’t it an awful thing?” he questioned sadly. “I don’t think I shall -ever recover from the shock.” - -Merriwell noticed McCormick’s distress, and it suddenly occurred to him -that Archie’s only brother had been sentenced unjustly to a term in Sing -Sing for embezzlement. Naturally the youth would think of him whenever -the subject of bank robberies was broached, and he decided that the joke -had gone a little too far. - -“Stop your nonsense, Fitz,” he said quickly, “and fry that bacon. You’ve -been idling there quite long enough.” - -“But how about this robbery?” persisted Buckhart, who had become -interested. “Did they get away?” - -“See for yourself,” Fitzgerald returned, tossing the paper to him. “I -have work to do.” - -Brad caught the scrap of newspaper and carried it to the lamp. - -“Thirty thousand dollars,” he mumbled. “Regular professional -job—confederate—traced to——By thunder, boys! They were traced to -Middleberry. What do you think of that? Traced to Middleberry and then -lost track of.” - -Middleberry being the nearest railroad town and not more than twelve -miles away, this announcement created considerable interest. Every one -desired to learn all the particulars, which were meager enough; and then -they began to speculate on where the robbers would naturally hide -themselves. The country thereabouts was sparsely settled, many of the -farms having been abandoned, and the thick woods offered plenty of -chances for secure retreats. - -Fitz was quite excited over the possibility of their coming upon the -thieves and had even decided how he would spend his portion of the -reward, when the ravishing odor of frying bacon, combined with the -equally alluring fragrance of the coffee, drove all other thoughts out -of their heads; and presently they settled down to supper with appetites -which only a long tramp through the woods in the crisp, bracing air of -mid-November can give, and for a time conversation languished, while -everything eatable in sight was disposed of with remarkable rapidity and -thoroughness. - -“There!” sighed Fitzgerald, with a searching look at the empty dishes. -“No more worlds to conquer.” - -“Thunder, little one!” exploded the Texan. “You sure aren’t looking for -anything more to eat! You’ve stowed away twice as much as any man here. -Where do you put it all?” - -“Where do you suppose?” demanded the slim chap. “I’ve got a good healthy -appetite, that’s all. I notice you haven’t been exactly backward -yourself.” - -Dick sprang up and began gathering the dishes together. - -“You fellows go ahead and start the fire in the next room while Mac and -I wash up,” he said. “There’s a lot of big logs out in the woodshed.” - -Brad, Fitz and Baxter promptly departed thither, while McCormick filled -the dish pan with water from the kettle and Merriwell dumped his armful -of dishes into it. Percy Joblots hovered about as if he did not know -exactly what to do. - -“Ithn’t there thomething I can do?” he asked presently, in a helpless -sort of manner. “I never wathed dithes, but I might try.” - -Dick’s lips twitched, but he managed to keep a straight face. - -“Two’s about enough for that, I think,” he returned. “You might see if -you can find some newspapers to start the fire with.” - -The dapper fellow looked vaguely about the kitchen, but, there being -nothing of the sort in sight, his eyes returned blankly to Dick’s face. - -“I don’t thee any,” he said plaintively. - -“Take a candle, then, and look through the other rooms,” Merriwell -retorted rather sharply. - -He was beginning to tire a little of the fellow’s absolute -thick-headedness. - -Joblots still hesitated. It seemed almost as if he did not wish to leave -the kitchen, but presently he lighted a candle and departed reluctantly. - -“Where in the mischief did you get hold of that?” McCormick asked -quickly. - -Dick smiled at the other’s tone of contempt. - -“Picked him up in the woods about a mile down the path,” he explained. -“He fired a charge of bird shot at us, and when we got hold of him we -found he’d come out for the day’s shooting, missed the last train back, -and hadn’t a notion of where he was going to put up to-night. There’s -plenty of room here, so we thought he might as well stay and go back in -the morning. He doesn’t know one end of a gun from the other, and I -shall feel safer when he’s out of the woods.” - -“Humph!” grunted McCormick. “I never ran up against such a chump in all -my life. He’s a blockhead.” - -Dick did not answer at once. He was thinking of the expression he had -surprised on the face of the would-be sportsman a little while ago. It -was not in the least like the look of a man lacking in sense. He -wondered whether Mr. Percy Joblots was quite such a fool as appeared at -first sight. - -“He does seem pretty inane, doesn’t he?” Merriwell remarked presently. -“Funny thing, though, Mac. He was saying that he knew a lot of Yale men, -and, when Fitz asked him if they were still at New Haven, he asked about -you!” - -“About me?” Archie exclaimed incredulously. “Why I never saw the jackass -before in my life!” - -“I don’t know that he said he knew you,” Dick returned, “but he gave -that impression. Anyway, he knew your name.” - -McCormick’s face took on a puzzled look. - -“That’s queer,” he mused. “Wonder where the deuce he got hold of it.” - -Dick did not answer. His quick ear had caught the sound of a soft -footfall in the adjoining room, and the next moment Joblots appeared in -the doorway. - -“I found thome,” he said, holding up a bunch of newspapers. “Big pile of -them in the fwont woom. What thall I do with them?” - -“Just crumple them up and put them in the fireplace,” Merriwell -answered. “Never mind. Here are some of the fellows now. They’ll fix it -up all right.” - -As he spoke the door to the woodshed opened and the three men appeared -carrying four or five big logs and a lot of kindling. They proceeded at -once to lay them in the dining-room fireplace, and by the time the -dishes were washed a roaring fire was blazing up the cavernous chimney. - -“That’s all to the good,” Dick remarked, as he and Archie joined the -circle about the hearth. “It certainly is cold outside.” - -“It sure is, pard,” Buckhart agreed. “That woodshed was like an ice -house.” - -Fitzgerald had dragged a sofa up to one side of the blaze and sprawled -full length on it. - -“I tell you, fellows, we’ll want to put in the night right here,” he -remarked. “I hate to think of leaving this lovely warm spot and crawling -in between icy sheets.” - -“Humph!” snorted the Texan. “How about that mattress you were making -such a time about a while back?” - -The slim chap patted the stuffed couch appreciatively. - -“This is as good as any mattress,” he retorted. - -“Where do we come in?” demanded McCormick. “I suppose we can sit up all -night on plain chairs.” - -Buckhart’s mouth drew down into a firm line. - -“Nix on that!” he said emphatically. “No breaking away from the bunch. -When we go to bed, little Fitzy will toddle along, too, if I have to -tuck him in myself.” - -Fitzgerald lay back comfortably, his eyes fixed dreamily on the dancing -flames. - -“When we capture those bank robbers and divide up the reward,” he mused -presently, “I think I’ll buy just such a place as this with my share.” - -Merriwell’s eyes gleamed. - -“Counting your chickens a little previously, aren’t you, Fitz?” he -smiled. “There hasn’t been any reward offered yet. How do you know there -will be?” - -“Why, of course there will,” the slim chap blurted. “Who ever heard of a -bank robbery and no reward. Absurd!” - -“I wonder if that paper got it straight about their being traced to -Middleberry,” Baxter put in. “It would be funny if we should run into -them while we’re out to-morrow.” - -“Hard to tell,” Dick returned. “Personally I’m not going to bother my -head about them. We came out to shoot, and that’s what I’m going to do.” - -“But still,” persisted Fitzgerald, “if we——” - -He stopped abruptly, and his eyes opened wide. Merriwell also stiffened -with a look of keen attention, and in the stillness which followed there -came the sound of the front door being opened and closed again. - -“Barry!” McCormick exclaimed, his eyes brightening. - -No one else spoke. They had all turned toward the door of the sitting -room and were watching it with intent interest, for, after a momentary -pause in the hall, the sound of footsteps on the bare floor was -unmistakable, coming nearer and nearer. - -The next instant the figure of a man loomed in the doorway and stopped -still, his keen, dark eyes flashing swiftly from one surprised face to -another. He was fairly tall, and rather dark, with coal-black hair and a -crisp, well-clipped, black mustache. His features were good, but his -face wore an expression of domineering harshness which did not improve -it. It was evident that he was a man accustomed to having his own way. -It was equally plain that at the present moment he was restraining his -anger with difficulty. - -And he was not Barry Lawrence, nor had any one of the party ever laid -eyes on him before. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - THROUGH THE CRACK OF THE DOOR. - - -For a moment the silence was unbroken. Then the stranger stepped inside -the room and set down the suit case he carried. - -“Well!” he snapped. “Might I ask what this means?” - -He looked at Merriwell, who happened to be seated nearest the door, and -his voice quivered with suppressed rage. Dick returned his glance -calmly. - -“You are quite at liberty to ask anything you please,” he replied -coolly; “but if you expect an answer you’ll have to be considerably more -definite.” - -The man’s teeth clicked together. - -“What do you mean by taking possession of this house?” he ripped out. -“How dare you break into another man’s place and make yourselves at home -here? A lot of tramps and loafers! It’s outrageous!” - -It was true that, excepting the resplendant Joblots, the Yale men were -all attired in flannel shirts and rather worn, rough-looking clothes; -but any one in his senses would scarcely mistake them for tramps. - -Dick arose slowly to his feet, his face calm but his eyes narrowing -slightly. - -“I think that will be about enough,” he said quietly, but with an -ominous undercurrent in his voice. “We’re not tramps, and you know it. -Neither have we broken into this house. You ought to know that, too. -Before you loosen up any more on that tongue of yours, kindly let us -know who you might be and what business you have butting in here.” - -The stranger’s black eyes fairly flashed. - -“Butting in!” he exploded. “I’ll have you know that I am Andrew -Jellison, son of the man who owned this place!” - -Merriwell eyed him with a new interest. - -“Ah, indeed,” he remarked pleasantly. “Wouldn’t son-in-law be a little -more accurate?” - -Jellison gave a start and darted a quick look at Dick. - -“What difference does that make?” he snapped. - -“Quite a little, I should think,” Merriwell returned calmly. “But you -haven’t told us what right you have here.” - -“Right!” frothed Jellison. “Right! I’m the heir. I own every stick and -stone of the place!” - -“Really?” Dick questioned. “I was under the impression that it was the -property of Barry Lawrence, from whom we rented it for a few days.” - -Jellison’s pompous self-assertion collapsed with the swiftness of a -pricked balloon. He had evidently tried to bluff the Yale men, having no -idea that they knew the truth, and for a moment he was nonplused. - -His eyes shifted about the room and he moistened his dry lips with an -equally dry tongue. - -“Impossible!” he muttered at length. “There wasn’t any will. I am the -heir-at-law.” - -Dick smiled. - -“I think you have been misinformed,” he said significantly. “There was a -will, which left everything to Barry Lawrence, Mr. Hickey’s nephew.” - -Jellison dropped into a chair, and, taking out his handkerchief, mopped -his forehead. - -“You’ll excuse my somewhat hasty words, I’m sure,” he said presently. “I -didn’t understand what you were doing here, or I shouldn’t have spoken -as I did. This has been a great shock!” - -Dick dropped back into his chair without replying. He wondered whether -the shock had been as great as Jellison would have it appear. He had a -shrewd suspicion that the man was acting. It seemed incredible that he -could really be ignorant of the fact that Hickey had cut him off without -a cent and that everything had been left to Lawrence. - -What was Jellison doing here, anyway? What object had he in appearing at -nine o’clock at night, alone, at a probably deserted farmhouse? Such -conduct was extraordinary, to say the least. - -“You—er—say you have rented the place for a few days?” Jellison inquired -at that moment. - -Dick nodded. - -“Yes. We have taken it for the remainder of the week.” - -“Shooting, I suppose?” - -“Yes.” - -There was silence for a moment. Jellison appeared to be thinking -intently. - -“I came down for a few days’ rest,” he volunteered. “The late flurry in -the Street has pretty well worn me out, and I knew how peaceful and -quiet this place was. I had no idea I should find any one here.” - -He hesitated and looked questioningly at Dick. - -“I’m afraid I shall have to ask you to tolerate me for to-night,” he -went on slowly. “There’s no place nearer than Cobmore’s where I could -stay.” - -Merriwell was not at all pleased with the turn things had taken. He and -his friends had come out for a few days’ rest and recreation. They had -looked forward for a long time to this little holiday when they would -get away by themselves and be absolutely free from cares or worries of -any sort, and they had been at considerable pains to arrange things so -they could get off. - -And now three people had turned up unexpectedly—two of them utter -strangers. He did not mind McCormick, for he was a good fellow and one -of them; but it was annoying beyond measure to have first Joblots and -then this Jellison thrust themselves in. The whole outing would be -spoiled. - -But he failed to see how he could very well get out of it. It would not -be decent to refuse Jellison a bed and make him walk three miles through -the forest to Lysander Cobmore, who would, no doubt, be asleep by the -time the man got there. And, after all, it was only for one night. They -could put up with him for that length of time. - -“Why, I guess there’s room enough,” he said slowly. “We haven’t been -upstairs yet, but I should imagine there would be no lack of beds in a -house of this size.” - -“Oh, I don’t care about a bed,” Jellison said, with a sort of suppressed -eagerness. “I can turn in on that couch there. Anything like that will -be good enough.” - -“I don’t think you’ll have to do that,” Merriwell returned quickly. -“Suppose we take a look upstairs and see what there is. It’s about time -to hit the pillow, anyhow.” - -His suggestion was received with much approbation. The other fellows had -grown rather restless since the appearance of Andrew Jellison. Joblots -was such an insignificant fellow—almost a fool, in fact—that they had -not paid much attention to him and had continued their talk and joking -quite as if he were not there; but the presence of Jellison seemed, -somehow, to throw a damper over everything, and, since the evening was -spoiled, they might just as well go to bed. - -One and all, they arose with alacrity, and, hunting up candles, lighted -them and started in a procession upstairs. - -Their discoveries on the second floor were most satisfactory. There were -bedrooms enough to give each one of the party a separate one if he -wished it, and Fitzgerald observed, on punching the mattresses, that -they were all of a good quality of hair. - -Here, even more than downstairs, the effect of the hit-or-miss enlarging -of the house was apparent. There was very little hallway, most of the -rooms opening one out of another; but, with a crowd of this sort, that -was no inconvenience. - -It being decidedly cold; the fellows at once hunted up sheets and -blankets and proceeded with the greatest expedition to make up the beds -required. - -Andrew Jellison persisted in his desire to spend the night on the sofa -downstairs. - -“There’s no use in my bothering to make a bed just for one night,” he -said. “That sofa is comfortable enough, and I shall sleep very well on -it.” - -He seemed to make such a point of it that Dick began to wonder whether -he could possibly have any ulterior motive in wanting to be away from -the rest of the bunch, and he resolved to thwart the man just on the -chance of such a thing being the case. - -“Nonsense!” he said positively. “There’s no trouble making a bed. It -would be perfectly absurd for you to spend the night on a sofa. Just you -take this room off ours. It’s got a nice little single bed, and you’ll -sleep like a top.” - -He was so emphatical that Jellison finally gave way, though it was with -a very palpable reluctance, and proceeded to make up the bed in the -little room which opened out of the larger bedroom at the head of the -stairs, which Merriwell had taken possession of for Buckhart and -himself. - -Fitzgerald and Baxter slept in one just back of that, and McCormick -chose one across the hall for himself and Percy Joblots. When the idea -was mentioned to the dapper little fellow, however, he objected -strenuously. - -“Weally, now, I couldn’t think of thleeping with another perthon,” he -said plaintively. “I wouldn’t clothe an eye all night. There’th a nice -little room jutht back of thith one. I’ll make the bed all by mythelf.” - -He made such a point of it that Dick gave in readily and laughingly told -him to take whatever room he chose. It at once became evident, however, -that Percy had not the most remote conception of how to make the bed, -and McCormick finally took pity on him and did the job up in short -order. - -At last, when matters were settled satisfactorily, they pulled off their -clothes and crawled between the cold sheets with many shivers and gasps, -which quickly ceased; and presently, one by one, they dropped off to -sleep. - -Several hours later Dick Merriwell awoke with a start and lay still -listening. Just what had roused him he did not know, but he felt that it -must have been some unusual noise, or he would never have been wakened -out of a sound sleep. - -The house was silent as a tomb, except for the regular breathing which -came from the Texan beside him and from the room where Jellison lay. His -first waking thought had been that the latter was prowling about the -house for some purpose, but the heavy breathing from the room showed -that the stranger was either sound asleep or giving a very good -imitation of it. At least he was there. - -What could it have been? For a long time Dick strained his ears for a -repetition of the noise, but nothing came. At last he decided that he -must have imagined or dreamed it, and, relaxing himself, he closed his -eyes and was just dropping off again when he opened them with a jerk and -sat bolt upright in bed. - -His quick ear had caught the faint but unmistakable sound of grating, as -if two stones were being rubbed against each other, which came from -somewhere downstairs. - -The next moment Dick crept cautiously out of bed and slipped noiselessly -into the hall. Bending over the railing, his eyes lighted up with -triumph as he caught the faint gleam of light from the open door of the -sitting room. - -It was bitter cold, and he was clad in the thinnest of pajamas, but he -did not notice this as he crept cautiously downstairs and approached the -door. He was too interested in what was going on in that room to think -of anything else. - -Softly he crossed the lower hall and peered through the crack of the -partly opened door. Then he saw that the light was in the dining room, -and even as he advanced he heard a labored breathing as if some one was -either making a great physical effort, or else was struggling under a -tremendous mental strain. - -With every nerve tingling and his curiosity at its highest pitch, Dick -reached the door of the dining room and looked through the crack. - -What he saw fairly paralyzed him with amazement. It was only with the -greatest difficulty that he caught himself in time to prevent a gasp of -surprise. - -The great fire had died down and only a few embers glowed dully in the -mammoth opening. The light he had seen came from a candle which was set -down on the stone hearth, and close beside it knelt the figure of a man -clad only in pajamas. His head was bent so that Merriwell could not see -his face, but Dick was not thinking of him at the moment. His eyes were -riveted on the gaping hole in the hearth over which the fellow was -bending. It had been made by the removal of one of the stone slabs about -eighteen inches square, and from where he stood Dick could see the -interior quite distinctly. - -It was filled almost to the brim with packages of bank notes, packed so -tightly together that one could not have inserted a finger between them. - -Merriwell could scarcely believe his senses. He rubbed his eyes in -bewilderment and looked again. It was quite true. They were bank -notes—mostly yellow-backs—and from the way they were packed together -they must represent a tremendous sum. - -Where had they come from? What were they doing there? The thought of the -bank robbery at Hartford flashed into his mind, and at the same instant -the kneeling man raised his head and revealed to Merriwell’s amazed gaze -the face of Archie McCormick, ghastly white, sweat dewed, the eyes wide -and shining, and the pale lips trembling spasmodically. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - IN THE SILENT NIGHT. - - -Dick could not take his eyes off the face of his friend, drawn, pale, -stamped with the print of some vital emotion. What did it mean? What -could it mean? Why had Archie stolen down here in the dead of night? -Where had the money come from? - -These, and a dozen other questions, equally unanswerable, flashed -through his half-dazed mind in the brief interval before the fellow -kneeling on the hearth could move a finger. McCormick was gazing -straight at the door, and Dick half expected him to call his name. It -did not seem possible that the man could be so blind as not to see who -was watching him through the crack. - -Then he saw that Archie was absolutely oblivious to his surroundings. -His eyes were cloudy and unseeing. He was not walking in his sleep, but -his mind was so concentrated on some problem that he was blind to all -outward things. - -Presently he uttered a shuddering sigh and reached slowly for the stone -slab which lay close at hand. - -Dick waited until he had replaced it over the hole and was leaning -forward for a handful of ashes to dust into the cracks, and then softly -made his way back to the hall and upstairs. - -His first impulse had been to confront Archie then and there and get the -truth from him, but now he shrank from doing that until he had had time -to think. He knew that appearances were often deceptive and that there -might be a perfectly reasonable explanation for the position in which he -had found McCormick; but the latter had an extremely sensitive, -high-spirited nature, and Dick felt that he would be likely to resent -any inquiries he himself might make which could not help but show more -or less suspicion. - -For Merriwell was suspicious. Fight as he might against the thought, he -could not help connecting what he had just seen with the robbery of the -Hartford bank just twenty-four hours before. - -He did not wish to believe anything against Archie McCormick. He had -always known him as a perfectly straightforward, truthful fellow with a -very keen sense of honor. It was incredible that he could be connected -in any way with the robbery, and yet facts were facts and Merriwell -could not help putting two and two together. - -Archie had gone to Hartford two days before, ostensibly to see a friend -who lived there. That was all right, but, unfortunately, he had reached -there the very afternoon of the night in which the bank had been broken -open. He had suddenly shown up in this deserted spot, and the man at -whose invitation he was supposed to have come, had not yet appeared. - -Dick remembered Cobmore’s very evident doubt of the story that Barry -Lawrence would think of visiting the farmhouse without giving him -notice. - -The robbers had been tracked to Middleberry and their trail lost. -Middleberry was barely twelve miles away, and it would be a very simple -matter for any one to make their way unseen through the woods to the -house on the shores of Cranberry Lake. - -Last, but not least, was the presence of this hoard of bank notes -concealed under the stone hearth downstairs. Dick felt sure that they -had not belonged to the late occupant of the place. Whatever other -eccentricities he might have had, Hickey was not a miser, but a very -shrewd old man with a decided belief in the safety of banks. He was not -the sort who would keep his savings in the house, and, besides, -Merriwell had noticed that the packages of notes had been all neatly -tied up just as they had come from the bank. And if they were not the -spoil from the late robbery, what were they? - -Lying there in the dark, Dick heard McCormick come stealthily back -upstairs and slip into his room. And, after that, hour after hour passed -as he thought over the problem from every conceivable point of view. - -He did not wish to believe his friend guilty. Some how, he could not -quite bring himself to that point, and yet every scrap of evidence was -strongly against him. - -He began to remember little things which he had scarcely noticed at the -time, but which now, in the light of this new discovery, came vividly -back into his mind. - -Archie had not taken Fitzgerald’s joshing about the robbery with -anything like his usual good grace. He had been palpably annoyed, and -his assumption of careless laughter had seemed a little forced. - -Then there was Joblots. Where did he come in? It did not seem possible -that any human being could be such an absolute ass, though once or twice -in his life Dick had met fellows with mannerisms of which the dapper -little fellow had made a very good copy. But Merriwell had an -instinctive feeling that he was nothing but a copy. For some reason he -was playing a part, and Merriwell felt sure that the real man was -something far different from his outward appearance. He had been -interested in McCormick from the very first. All evening he had been -watching him—covertly, to be sure, but none the less constantly. Was it -possible that he could be following Archie? - -Jellison, too, was a puzzle. The absurdity of a man’s coming alone to -such a deserted spot as this and landing there late at night, simply -because he wanted to take a few days’ rest, was palpable. There must be -some ulterior motive, and a very strong one at that, to cause him to do -what he had done; but, try as he would, Dick could not fathom it. -Presently his mind left Jellison and leaped back to McCormick. - -Archie’s only brother had been sentenced to two years in State’s prison. -He had been at liberty for six months. To be sure, both Archie and his -brother swore that the latter had been wrongly convicted, that some one -high up in the bank had in reality stolen the money and then succeeded -in weaving such a web of false evidence around the innocent man that he -had been convicted and sentenced, the thief himself escaping scot-free. - -That was possible. It was also possible that both men had lied. They -might have inherited a single bad streak—an irresistible tendency to -steal, perhaps. Such things had been known. Jim might have committed the -actual robbery and Archie helped him get away with the spoils. - -So Merriwell tossed about through the long hours of the night, -struggling between his innate loyalty and devotion to his friend and the -evidence of his eyesight and his common sense. At last, toward morning, -he fell into a troubled sleep and dreamed strange, fantastic dreams in -which Archie and Jellison and Percy Joblots were mixed up in a vague, -shadowy, perfectly idiotic manner with a fountain of silver dollars -which spouted out of the stone hearth of the dining room and filled the -whole house. - -He awoke when the first beams of the morning sun streamed through the -open window and slanted across the bed. He was on the floor in a -twinkling, dragging the blankets off Brad and causing the Texan to awake -with a grunt and a shiver. - -“Come out and take a plunge,” Dick invited him. “It’ll clear the cobwebs -out of your brains.” - -To tell the truth, he felt more need of that process than did his chum; -for his cogitating of the night before had brought no satisfactory -solution to the problem which was perplexing him, and he was in quite as -much of a quandary as ever regarding the stand he sought to take. - -“B-r-r!” chattered Buckhart. “I reckon I might as well, pard. I couldn’t -be much colder than I am now. Come on.” - -Slipping off his pajamas, he snatched up a blanket, and, wrapping it -around him, started downstairs. - -Dick lingered long enough to arouse the others, and then followed. -Together they raced across the grass, silvery with hoar frost, and, -without a pause, dashed into the icy water. - -Both of them let out a yell which raised weird echoes from across the -silent lake, and then settled down to a brisk swim. Presently the other -three fellows appeared and took the plunge with even more -vociferousness, and five minutes later they all trooped back to the -house, glowing from head to foot and feeling ready for anything which -the day had to offer. - -Joblots, dragging on his clothes with shivering haste, chattering teeth -and fumbling fingers, was horror-stricken when he found out what they -had been doing. - -“My grathiouth thaketh!” he gasped. “How could you do it? I thould have -perithed of the cold. My conthtitution would never thtand the thtrain.” - -Brad slapped him on the back with a powerful hand which caused Percy to -wince and step back. - -“Do you good, kiddo!” he grinned. “We’re warm as toast now, and you’re -blue with the cold. Better try it.” - -“No, thankth,” Joblots returned hastily. “I’ll be all wight ath thoon -ath I get my clotheth on.” - -When the Yale men got downstairs they found him trying to crawl into the -chimney, while Jellison had departed to the woodshed for material with -which to build up the fire. - -Dick had decided to take no steps in any direction regarding his -discovery of the night before. A little delay would do no harm and might -be productive of infinite good. The money was safe enough for the -present, now that he knew it was there, and while he hustled around -getting breakfast ready he kept a keen watch on McCormick. - -There was no mistaking the fact that Archie had something on his mind. -Always light-hearted and prompt to join in with any joshing or bantering -give-and-take which might be going on, he seemed decidedly serious as he -helped Dick with the breakfast. More than once Merriwell caught him -gazing absently out of the window, and once when he spoke to him -suddenly the fellow gave a sudden start and the dish he was holding -slipped from his hands and crashed in pieces on the floor. - -“I don’t know what’s the matter with me,” he said regretfully as he -stooped to pick up the pieces. “I didn’t sleep very well last night.” - -“What was the trouble?” Dick asked carelessly. “Didn’t you feel well?” - -“Oh, yes, I felt all right. Strange bed, I suppose.” - -“You didn’t happen to get up, did you?” Merriwell inquired, as he broke -an egg into the frying pan. - -McCormick gave a slight start and darted a keen look at Dick, but the -latter’s countenance was as free from guile as that of a child-in-arms. - -“Did you hear any one?” Archie countered evasively. - -“I awoke some time during the night and thought I heard some one walking -around downstairs,” Dick explained easily. - -“I did get up and go down,” McCormick said, after a moment’s hesitation. -“I was restless and finally got up and took a walk through the rooms -down there. It was plagued cold, too, I can tell you.” - -Merriwell did not ask any more questions. He had given Archie plenty of -opportunity to explain what had taken him down to the dining room if the -fellow were so inclined, but apparently he did not propose to do any -explaining. - -Despite McCormick’s absent state of mind and Merriwell’s preoccupation, -breakfast proved to be a jovial meal. Fitzgerald was quite lively enough -to keep things going, and Buckhart and Baxter were good seconds. Even -Percy Joblots, now that he was warm again, piped up now and then with -some foolish remark which sent them all into roars of laughter, while -Jellison seemed to have recovered from his grouch of the night before -and was absolutely genial. - -Neither of the two strangers, however, made any mention of leaving the -farmhouse that morning. They could not decently stay there much longer, -and Dick rather expected them to announce their departure directly -breakfast was over. But they did not. - -Instead, Jellison took a comfortable seat in front of the fire in the -dining room, and, opening a newspaper, which he had brought with him the -night before, became instantly absorbed in its contents. Joblots hung -around the kitchen while the dishes were being washed, fluttering -helplessly about, but really accomplishing nothing. - -McCormick evidently had something he wanted to say to Dick, but seemed -to find rather difficult. Several times he started a remark, only to -break off abruptly; but at last, when he was drying the last plate, he -made the break. - -“I don’t believe I’ll go out with you fellows this morning,” he said, in -a low tone. “I’ve got to go to Middleberry for something special. I’ll -be back by noon, though, and perhaps I may run across Barry somewhere. I -can’t imagine what’s become of him.” - -Dick did not reply at once. He wondered what this unexpected move could -mean. What sudden business could take Archie to Middleberry? However, he -could think of no plausible objection, and so long as the money remained -safely under the hearth McCormick was not likely to stay away -permanently. - -“Just as you please, Mac,” he said quietly. “You’ll miss some good -sport, though. The first day may be the best. I don’t want you to feel -that you’re in the way, or that we don’t want you, simply because you -didn’t start out with our party.” - -“Oh, no, it isn’t that,” Archie returned promptly. “It’s just something -which I have got to attend to this morning. I’m sure I’ll be able to get -back by lunch time.” - -“Well, if you don’t find us here, you’ll have to trace us by the guns,” -Dick remarked, drying his hands. “We’ll take some sandwiches with us and -probably won’t come back until night.” - -A sudden, worried look flashed into McCormick’s face. He glanced swiftly -through the open door at Jellison, who sat reading before the fire. Then -his eyes returned to Dick’s face. - -“Dick,” he whispered softly, “take him along with you, won’t you?” - -He made a quick, almost imperceptible motion of his head toward the -other room. - -Merriwell’s eyes narrowed. - -“Jellison?” he asked in the same low tone. - -Archie nodded. - -“Yes. Don’t let him stay in the house alone. Give him my gun, if you -want to. I can’t tell you just now why I ask this, but it’s very -important to me.” - -“But he’ll be leaving this morning,” Dick objected. - -“No, he won’t,” McCormick returned positively. “You mark my words, he’ll -ask if he can’t stay through the day. Tell him yes, and ask him to go -out with you. Will you do this much for me, Dick?” - -Merriwell looked keenly at the face of the man before him, and Archie -returned his gaze steadfastly. His eyes were anxious and pleading, but -Dick could see no signs of guilt in them. Either the fellow was -innocent, or he had amazing powers of dissimulation. - -“Why can’t you confide in me, Mac?” Merriwell asked quickly. - -Archie looked distressed. - -“I’d like to, but I can’t—now,” he said, in a low tone. “Won’t you take -me on faith?” - -Dick shrugged his shoulders. - -“I’ll have to, I reckon, Mac,” he returned. “All right. I’ll do my best -to help you out.” - -He walked into the other room where the Yale men were busily engaged in -putting together their guns, filling cartridge belts with shells, and -making general preparations for the day’s sport. Joblots stood watching -them, a look of awed admiration on his face. - -“My grathiouth!” he exclaimed. “I with I could do that ath quick ath you -do. It taketh me about an hour to fixth my gun wight.” - -Fitzgerald grinned. - -“I guess you haven’t had much practice with a gun, have you?” he -inquired slyly. - -“Not much,” Joblots returned sadly. “I with I wath going with you thith -morning. I’d learn a lot.” - -“Mac’s got to go in to the village,” Dick announced. “Anybody want him -to get anything?” - -There was a general negative, and Dick turned to Joblots. - -“Perhaps you’d like to stay with us this morning and shoot?” he -suggested pleasantly. - -His tone was quite casual, but he had a distinct object in giving the -invitation. - -The dapper little fellow seemed suddenly to experience a change of -heart. - -“Thank you very much,” he returned hastily, “but I think I’d better not -thtay. I’d better be getting back, and it will be pleathanter having -thome one to go with.” - -“Just as you please,” Dick said carelessly. - -But he turned away with a feeling of distinct satisfaction. He had found -out what he wanted to know. Joblots was evidently determined not to let -McCormick out of his sight. And now arose the question: Why was he -following Archie? Dick’s thoughts were suddenly broken in upon by Andrew -Jellison. - -“Perhaps, since Mr. Joblots doesn’t wish to shoot,” he said, in the -pleasantest tone of voice, “you wouldn’t mind if I took his place for -the morning. I am very fond of shooting, and I don’t suppose you will -object to my staying here until this afternoon when I can start back in -time to get the last train to the city?” - -So Archie was right. Jellison did want to stay, after all. - -“No objection whatever,” Merriwell returned. “You can take McCormick’s -gun, for he won’t use it till afternoon.” - -“Thanks very much,” Jellison said. “You are most kind. Now my little -holiday will not be spoiled after all.” - -Without further delay, Archie departed, striding across the field toward -the woods with Joblots trotting after him, taking short, quick, mincing -steps which set Fitzgerald off into a paroxysm of laughter. He at once -pranced across the room in a very lifelike imitation of the dapper -little fellow, but the exhibition came to an untimely end when he -stumbled over one of the spreading claw feet of the mahagony table and -nearly fell. - -“Drat the thing!” he exclaimed crossly. “What in thunder does any one -want to have table legs all over the room for?” - -“Peace, brother!” droned a sanctimonious voice from the doorway. -“Blessed is he who speaks from a pure heart, but the curser and reviler -is an abomination.” - -Fitz gave a gasp and whirled round, while the other fellows looked up in -astonishment. - -Standing on the threshold was a most extraordinary figure of a man. He -was very tall and very thin, his lank garments of rusty black clinging -to his skinny frame in a manner that gave him a ludicrous resemblance to -a scarecrow. His face was long and pointed like a razor edge. His hooked -nose curved over his thin-lipped mouth like the beak of a bird, and was -of a distinctly fiery hue, especially toward the end. His long hair -straggled down from under the broken brim of an ancient silk hat which -had weathered the storms of many winters. His eyes were rolled piously -upward so that little but the whites could be seen, while both hands -were clasped over the handle of a grayish-green umbrella of -extraordinary size. - -The Yale men gazed at him for a moment in petrified silence. - -“Well, who are you?” Fitzgerald inquired presently, in a choking voice. - -The strange man slowly withdrew his eyes from the ceiling and looked at -the little fellow disapprovingly. - -“A rebuker of iniquity,” he returned ponderously, “moved by a direct -intervention of providence to bring you to a full perception of the -error of your ways.” - -“Humph!” snorted Fitz. “I like your cheek. What’s the matter with my -ways, I’d like to know? They suit me all right.” - -“Confirmed in sin,” murmured the stranger. “Wallowing in profanity. A -sad case—very sad.” - -Buckhart chuckled gleefully. - -“Ah-ha, Fitzy!” he grinned. “I knew you’d sure be pinched some day with -your thundering cussing.” - -A look of pain came into the face of the tall man and he lifted one thin -hand reprovingly. - -“Hush, I beg of you,” he said severely. “First search out your own heart -and find whether it be clean before you venture to reprove a brother.” - -Fitzgerald chortled joyfully. - -“That’s right!” he exclaimed. “Go for him, old duck. Pick out your own -beams, you Texas steer, before you go hunting for my moats.” - -Though the man’s appearance and manner were amusing enough, Dick wanted -to get started with the guns, and he felt that time was being wasted. - -“Might I ask who you are?” he inquired, struggling to repress a smile, -“and what your business here is?” - -The stranger glanced at him critically. - -“You may, sir,” he returned at length. “I am pleased to observe that you -do not appear to be steeped in sin. At least, your language is not -sprinkled with the oaths which have cut my sensitive nature to the -quick. I am the Reverend Jeremy Pennyfeather, a preacher and expounder -of the Word. On my morning ramble through the clean, sweet, dewy world, -I chanced to pass this house, and finding the door ajar, I entered, -seeking a moment’s rest, and, perhaps—er—a little—er—sustenance, without -which these poor carnal bodies of ours cannot uphold the burdens of -life.” - -Dick gazed at him in astonishment. He certainly did not speak as if he -were quite right in the head. - -“Your morning ramble?” he repeated. “You live somewhere near here?” - -The Reverend Pennyfeather hesitated. - -“At the moment I am without a—er—fixed charge,” he explained. “I travel -about carrying the Word and doing what little good I can by the way. It -sometimes happens, as in the present instance, that I am temporarily -without a roof over my head or—only for the moment, I assure you—the -necessary fuel to keep this poor machine of mine—er—going.” - -Dick’s face cleared. The fellow was some wandering preacher, possibly -crack-brained, and apparently little better than a tramp. He had simply -come in there for breakfast. - -“Oh, I see,” he said quickly. “You want something to eat. Just come out -to the kitchen, will you?” - -The man followed him slowly, with majestic steps, but there was no -mistaking the hungry glitter in his eyes or the suppressed eagerness -with which he fell to on the simple fare which Dick laid before him. He -certainly ate as if he were half starved, and Merriwell was far from -regretting the time wasted in waiting until he had finished. - -When there was nothing more left in sight, Pennyfeather arose with a -sigh. - -“Young man, I thank you,” he said sonorously. “Has it ever occurred to -you what a degrading thing it is that these frail bodies of ours cannot -long exist without carnal food?” - -Dick smiled. - -“I can’t say it has,” he returned promptly. “I have a decided partiality -to good things to eat, especially when I come in after a day’s tramp -through the woods, with an appetite like a horse.” - -“But what a shame it is that our soaring, ethereal spirits should be -tied to earth by such carnal bonds,” persisted the preacher. “Were it -not for the baleful necessity of food and drink what might not man -accomplish!” - -He rolled his eyes in ecstasy and then slowly lowered them to -Merriwell’s face. - -“A painful affliction which I have carried uncomplainingly from the -cradle of childhood, compels occasional recourse to—er—stimulant,” he -said blandly. “Periods of faintness, you know, from which nothing else -seems to revive me. If, by any chance, you have something of the sort at -hand——” - -The pause was expressive. Dick glanced swiftly at the thin man’s hushed -nose. It would seem that the periods of faintness had been more or less -frequent. - -“Sorry,” he said shortly, “but I haven’t.” - -The Reverend Pennyfeather sighed and clasped his hands together -resignedly. - -“Ah, well, perhaps ’tis better so,” he murmured. “No doubt I shall get -along without it. So far none of the attacks have been fatal. Perhaps -you have no objection to my resting for a while before I resume my way.” - -Dick had a very decided objection. Enough time had been wasted already -with this humbug. - -“You can take a chair out on the porch and sit there as long as you -please,” he said shortly. “We are just leaving the house for the -morning, however, and I want to lock up.” - -“That will do very nicely,” returned Pennyfeather quickly. “I hope, -however, you will allow me a scant five minutes in which to bring to a -realizing sense of the evil of their ways, the two very profane young -men whom I first talked with.” - -He moved swiftly through the dining room as he spoke, with Merriwell at -his heels, but when they reached the sitting room, it was found to be -quite deserted. Evidently the fellows, scenting a probable continuance -of the stranger’s moral lecture, had decamped. - -“The wicked flee when no man pursueth,” breathed Pennyfeather. “What is -so tormenting as a guilty conscience, my dear sir? I should have liked -one more chance to plead with them, but life is full of disappointments, -which are always discipline for the soul, sir—discipline for the soul. -This chair will do nicely.” - -His sudden change of subject was due to a glimpse of Dick’s impatient -face as he stood significantly by the door, gun in one hand, ready to be -gone. - -With a swift judgment which had little of the spiritual in it, the -preacher picked instantly the most comfortable chair in the room, and -proceeded to roll it out to the veranda with considerable expedition. -Dick closed and locked the door behind him, thrusting the key into his -pocket. - -“Rest yourself as long as you please,” he said briefly, leaping to the -ground. “Nobody will disturb you.” - -Without waiting for a reply, he started across the open at a brisk pace -to join the fellows who were waiting for him at the edge of the woods. - -“Blessed is he who sits on a tack, for he shall rise again,” intoned -Fitzgerald, rolling his eyes heavenward and drawing down the corners of -his mouth. - -“Did he start in to give you a jawing, too, pard?” Buckhart inquired, -with a grin. “Hope you didn’t say ‘dash it’ in his highness’ presence.” - -“What’s he doing in that chair on the porch?” Teddy Baxter asked -curiously. - -“Resting,” Dick explained. “He’s subject to spells of faintness which -need—er—stimulant. Painful affliction from childhood, you know. Nothing -else helps. When he found there was nothing doing in that line, he asked -for a chair upon which to rest his weary limbs and recover from said -spell, so I let him take it. He can’t get away with that. It weighs -about a ton.” - -“Dotty, isn’t he?” Fitz asked, as he leaped down from the fence rail. - -“I guess so,” Dick returned. “Either that, or just plain faker. Come on, -let’s get busy. We’ve wasted enough time.” - -Leaping the fence, they at once plunged into the woods and started in a -northerly direction toward the wilder, rocky country beyond, where -Farmer Cobmore had told them the partridges were remarkably thick this -fall. Already they were planning to get up with the dawn next morning -and try for wild ducks at their feeding ground at the upper end of -Cranberry Lake. - -Andrew Jellison, carrying McCormick’s gun, seemed to be thoroughly -enjoying himself. He was pleasant and genial, entering into the -conversation now and then in a perfectly natural way, while not -thrusting himself forward too much, and was, in short, so totally -different in every way from what he had been—ill-tempered and -overbearing of manner—the night before, that he scarcely seemed the same -man. - -It was almost as if a great load had been removed from his mind and the -reaction made him as light-hearted and free from care as a boy. -Merriwell wondered at the change. Perhaps he had misjudged the man when -he credited him with an ulterior motive in intruding upon them. Possibly -the man’s nerves really had been worn to a shred and he had wanted -nothing more than a little while in the peaceful quiet of the wilderness -to brace him up. - -There was no question of his ability to handle a gun, nor of his -interest and enthusiasm in the pursuit of game. To him belonged the -credit of the first bird bagged, and throughout the morning he kept up -to the good record he made at the beginning. - -For a time they all kept pretty well together. Then, little by little, -they split up, each man taking the route which he thought most -favorable, having planned to meet at a certain point about twelve -o’clock for lunch. - -About eleven Dick started up a covey of birds and became so interested -in their pursuit that he forgot all about the time and was consequently -late reaching the point of meeting. - -When he came out of the bushes to the broad, rocky spur of the low -mountain, he found the others seated near at hand busily engaged in -devouring sandwiches. - -“Better hustle, Richard, if you want anything,” Fitzgerald admonished, -rather indistinctly. “We were so hungry we couldn’t wait another -minute.” - -Merriwell came forward and dropped down on the rock. - -“How many?” Buckhart asked. - -“Nine,” returned his chum. - -“Great! That beats the record so far.” - -“Where’s Jellison?” Dick asked suddenly. - -He had been conscious of something or some one missing ever since he -came out of the thicket. - -Fitzgerald shrugged his shoulders. - -“Search me,” he returned airily. “Haven’t seen him since we split up.” - -There was a little furrow of anxiety on Dick’s brow. He was thinking of -McCormick’s very evident worry lest Jellison be left alone in the house. -The fellow had come with them that morning quite of his own accord, but -that did not prevent his hurrying back there as soon as he could do so -without attracting attention. What had Mac to fear from him, anyway? Was -it possible that the man knew what lay under the hearth? - -As Dick puzzled over the problem, all his doubts and fears and -perplexities returned in full force, and did not add in the least to his -pleasure in their little outing. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - - NOT A MOMENT TOO SOON. - - -As Archie McCormick struck out along the forest path which led to -Lysander Cobmore’s farm he was not especially pleased to have Percy -Joblots tagging along behind. He would much rather have been alone. -There was so much to think of and plan out that he would have liked to -be able to give his whole mind to it instead of having to think of this -little whipper-snapper who, from the first, seemed to have considerable -difficulty in keeping up with the Yale man’s long stride. - -“You mutht be in an awful hurry,” he panted, after they had gone about -half a mile. - -“I am,” snapped McCormick, without looking back. - -There was silence for a few moments, broken only by the labored -breathing of Percy. - -“Grathiouth thaketh!” he gasped presently. “I’m motht dead. Couldn’t you -walk a little thlower for jutlit a few minuteth?” - -Growling an irritated response, Archie slowed down a little, but very -soon was back at the old speed. He really did not intend to hustle so, -but his mind was so wholly given over to the problem which he had to -solve that, unconsciously, he almost flew over the rough path. - -“Merthy!” moaned Joblots, mopping his face with a delicate linen -handkerchief. “Thith ith awful!” - -McCormick did not hear him, so preoccupied was he, and the dapper little -fellow struggled on for a quarter of a mile farther in panting silence. - -“Can’t we retht for jutht a minute?” he begged, at the end of that time. - -Archie whirled around swiftly. - -“Why the dickens do you want to rest?” he demanded fiercely. “I didn’t -ask you to come with me! I’ve got to get to Middleberry as quick as I -possibly can, and here you drag along and talk about wanting to rest. -Gee! It’s enough to try the patience of a saint.” - -Joblots shrank back and instinctively put up a defensive arm. Apparently -he was afraid Mac was going to hit him, and the look of fear on his -puny, insignificant face brought the big Yale man swiftly to his senses. - -“Don’t be a fool!” he growled, in an apologetic tone. “You don’t think -I’d hit you, I hope? I suppose I was a bit sharp, but you mustn’t mind -what I said. I’m worried clean out of my head, almost, about something. -We’ll rest a little and then take it slower.” - -Joblots instantly plucked up heart at this and became all smiles. They -stopped for a few minutes and then went on again at moderate speed, and -all the way through the woods he drove McCormick almost wild with his -well-meant, but perfectly idiotic, chatter. - -At last, to McCormick’s infinite relief, the farmhouse was in sight. - -Cobmore was at home, and, after a little persuasion, was induced to let -Archie borrow a horse and buggy to take him in to town. - -He seemed to be a little curious as to the reason for the trip, but the -Yale man was not communicative, so the farmer was obliged to content -himself with sly twitting of Joblots, who appeared to be absolutely -oblivious to his banter. - -It was a little after eight when they left Cobmore’s. At half-past nine -McCormick drove recklessly through the long village street, and, pulling -up with a jerk in front of the small station building, leaped out and -ran inside, leaving Joblots staring in dismay at the reins which had -been tossed into his lap, as if he hadn’t the least idea what he was to -do with them. - -Presently he laid them cautiously on the seat and slipped quietly out of -the buggy. Luckily one of the natives lounging by the door, took it upon -himself to tie the horse to a hitching post, or there is no telling how -McCormick would have managed to return the rig intact. - -Percy Joblots, safe from the perilous position alone in the buggy, drew -a quick breath and hastily followed Archie into the building. He found -him at the window in the act of handing a telegraph message to the -station agent, but the latter had read it aloud to verify it so quickly -that it was all over before the dapper little fellow could sidle quietly -within hearing distance. - -“Will you please send it off at once?” McCormick asked, handing the man -a dollar bill. “Just keep the change for your trouble.” - -The fellow’s eyes brightened instantly, and he lost much of his languid, -indifferent manner. - -“Yes, sir,” he returned promptly. “If I can get an open wire, I’ll push -it right along.” - -He dropped down in his chair and the sharp click-click of the instrument -sounded through the office. - -“It’s all right,” the man said, as he looked up. “She’s gone.” - -“How long will it take for an answer to come back?” McCormick asked -eagerly. - -“All depends. Couple of hours, anyhow.” - -The Yale man frowned. Two hours seemed a long time to wait, but there -was no help for it. As he turned away from the window, his eyes fell -upon the dapper Joblots standing quietly beside him. - -“Humph!” he exclaimed in surprise. “What are you doing here? Where’d you -leave the horse?” - -Percy gasped. - -“Thaketh alive! Outthide, of courthe. You thouldn’t have left me alone -with him. I never could thand hortheth.” - -“Idiot!” growled McCormick, rushing to the door. - -He gave an exclamation of relief as he saw the animal safely tied, and -then turned back to Joblots. - -“You’ve got about an hour to wait for your train,” he said shortly. “I’m -going for a walk, so I’ll say good-by to you now.” - -The little fellow seemed reluctant to part company with the Yale man, -but Archie had reached the point when very little more of the other’s -company would drive him distracted, so he made short work of the parting -and hurried out of the station to the street and thence for a tramp -along the country road. - -His astonishment can better be imagined than described when, returning a -couple of hours later, the first thing which greeted his eyes as he -pushed open the station door was the familiar form of the little pest he -fancied he was rid of for good, sitting complacently on one of the -benches. - -Joblots smiled quite happily into the frowning countenance of the Yale -man. - -“Tho glad you’re back,” he lisped. “Motht annoying thing! I actually -mithed the beathtly train. I went acroth the stweet to thee if I -couldn’t find thome thigaretth, and while I wath talking to the -man—motht amuthing perthon, he wath—the bally thing came in and I never -thaw it.” - -“I never heard of such a fool trick!” snapped McCormick. “Now you’ve got -to wait till after one.” - -“Yeth,” Percy sighed, “and not a thingle plathe to get a bite to eat.” - -“Well, that’s your fault,” Archie said callously. “You’ll have to go -without.” - -Walking over to the window, he found that the answer to his message had -not yet arrived. Consequently he had to put in another half hour in -listening to Percy’s idiotic prattle before the agent called to him that -the telegram had come. - -McCormick sprang up eagerly and snatched the yellow sheet from the man’s -hand. His eyes eagerly scanned the contents of the rather long -communication and, when he had read it all, they lighted up joyfully. - -“I was right,” he muttered under his breath. “I knew it must be so. Now -if I can only work it right. Gee! I can hardly wait to get back to the -house.” - -He hurried to the door, calling a brief good-by to Percy as he passed -that amazed person, leaped into the buggy outside, and a moment later -the clatter of the flying horse’s hoofs died away down the village -street. - -He made good time back to Cobmore’s, drove the horse into the stable and -left him to the care of the hired man. Then he darted into the woods, -found the path and fairly flew along it. - -His face was flushed and his eyes shining with eagerness as he hurried -along. Everything was coming his way now, if he only used a few -precautions. - -As he came out of the woods within sight of the farmhouse, he stopped -abruptly and looked sharply at the building. - -“Who in thunder’s that?” he muttered. - -Close against the side of the house, beside one of the windows, was a -man, tall, thin, and dressed in frayed, black garments. His back was -toward McCormick, and he seemed to be intent on something which he was -watching through a crack in the closed blind. - -As Archie watched him, not knowing quite what to do, the fellow suddenly -turned and saw him. The next instant his flying coat tails were -vanishing around the corner of the house. - -“Must be a tramp,” the Yale man murmured uneasily. - -He did not like the thought of any one spying around that house, -particularly around that room. There was entirely too much at stake. - -Crossing the field, he reached the front of the house. The door was -closed and apparently locked. The big armchair on the veranda puzzled -him for a moment, but he swiftly forgot that and everything else as his -eyes fell on the partly open window near at hand. - -He drew his breath sharply and his face paled. - -“By heavens!” he exclaimed. “Somebody’s broken in!” - -The next moment he was on the veranda and had slipped through the -window. A sound came from the dining room on the other side of the hall -which made him stiffen like a hound on the scent. - -Three strides took him past the stairs and into the sitting room. A -second later he stood in the doorway of the dining room. He was just in -time. - -The slab had been removed from the hearth, and before the opening knelt -Andrew Jellison. Near him was a large suit case, and he was busily -engaged in lifting the packages of bank notes from the hole and stowing -them away in the case. He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he -did not hear the soft approach of the Yale man, nor see him pause in the -doorway. - -“Caught with the goods, Jellison!” McCormick said, in a tone of triumph. - -“You pretty near turned the trick, but not quite.” - -Andrew Jellison jerked up his head swiftly and drew his breath with a -quick, sharp intake. His face turned the color of chalk, the package of -bank notes dropped from his limp hand into the hole, and for an instant -he gazed at the Yale man with a kind of horror-stricken fascination. - -Then he leaped to his feet. - -“Pretty clever, but not quite clever enough,” McCormick went on. “You -didn’t know I heard you steal downstairs last night and followed you. -You didn’t see me standing behind this very door while you opened up -your hiding place to make sure the stolen money was still there. But I -was here, Jellison. I watched you put that slab back and slip upstairs -again. I even waited a full half hour, though it was the hardest thing I -ever did, so that you might have time to go to sleep, before I went to -find what you had hidden here. It must have worried you a lot, Jellison, -to have to leave it here two years and never have a chance to see -whether any one had found it or not.” - -The Yale man paused and gazed with brightly gleaming eyes at the sullen -face of the man before him. - -“How do you think I felt, Jellison,” McCormick went on swiftly, “when I -saw the label on the wrappers around those notes? The Metropolis Bank, -of New York, Harlem Branch. Your bank, Jellison, and—my brother’s!” - -The black-browed man gave a sudden start, and a look of amazed -incredulity leaped into his eyes. - -“Yes, my brother’s,” Archie repeated. “You didn’t know that I was a -brother of the man you ruined and sent to prison, did you? You didn’t -know that I had sworn to ferret out the man who was responsible for his -disgrace and bring him to justice, if it took all my life. You played -your cards cleverly. The evidence you faked deceived even the judge who -tried the case. You didn’t neglect a single step to throw the blame from -your guilty shoulders to those of an innocent man. I wonder if you’ve -ever thought since then about that life you ruined, that reputation you -blackened beyond repair. But, thank God, I’ve found you out! All your -devilish plotting has come to nothing. Jim will be cleared, and you’ll -have a taste of Sing Sing yourself. I hope you’ll like it.” - -McCormick’s face was hard and relentless. He loved his older brother -better than any one else in the world. The sight of Jim’s agony and -disgrace had made him suffer torments. The man’s life had been almost -ruined by the fiendish ingenuity of Andrew Jellison. - -Released from prison some six months before, Jim McCormick had done his -best to live a new life, but the stigma of the ex-convict clung to him -wherever he went. No one would trust him. He drifted from place to -place, always dropping lower in the social scale, until at last Dick -Merriwell had found him and, learning his story, sent him to his brother -Frank, in the hopes that the latter might do something toward clearing -his name and finding out the real criminal. - -It was small wonder, therefore, that Archie felt a bitter, relentless -hatred for the man before him and was determined to mete out to him a -full measure of justice. - -Jellison seemed to read this in the clear, cold eyes of the younger man. -He was in a desperate position from which there seemed no possible -escape. Unconsciously he drew one hand across his sweat-stained -forehead. - -“I suppose you wonder why I didn’t nab you this morning,” Archie -continued presently. “I wasn’t sure of you. I didn’t know your first -name nor what you looked like. I couldn’t afford to make any mistake, so -I went to Middleberry and wired my brother for a full description. It -came all right, and I was the happiest fellow alive.” - -The bank cashier moistened his dry lips. - -“I wonder you said nothing to your friends,” he said, in a voice which -held a ring of attempted bravado. “They would have kept me here. How did -you know I wouldn’t get away before you came back?” - -His eyes glittered strangely as he watched the Yale man with an eager, -furtive look. Something more than mere curiosity seemed to be beneath -the question. - -“You wouldn’t leave without the coin,” Archie answered. “There’s no way -out of here but by the path through the woods, and I was sure you -couldn’t make it before I got back from the village. Besides, I asked -Merriwell to get you out shooting with them this morning so as to -prevent your doing anything while I was gone. I didn’t tell the boys -about it because I wanted to clear Jim myself. I didn’t want anybody -else to have a hand in it, and they haven’t. No one else knows yet, -Jellison; but they will mighty quick.” - -“I think not!” snarled the older man ferociously. - -With a lightninglike motion of his arm, his right hand slid into a hip -pocket and flashed out again, gripping a very serviceable-looking -revolver. - -“I think not!” he repeated triumphantly. - -McCormick’s face paled a little as he gazed straight into the steady -barrel of the weapon. But, though his face remained unmoved, his heart -sank within him. What an idiot he had been not to prepare for this! -Somehow, the idea that Jellison would be armed had never entered his -head. He was so much superior, physically, to the older man that his -ability to capture him had seemed a thing beyond question. - -“You fool!” sneered Jellison. “Did you think I’d let myself be pinched -by a kid like you?” - -Archie smiled rather wryly. - -“I was careless, I admit,” he acknowledged. “But I don’t see that you’re -out of the woods yet. What are you going to do about it, now that you -have got the drop on me?” - -Jellison did not answer at once. As he stood thinking, a little of the -triumph died out of his face and his forehead crinkled with a network of -worried wrinkles. - -What was he going to do about it? He might get away himself—might even -carry off the money; but would he get far? McCormick knew the truth, -and, though the cashier might tie him up long enough to get a good -start, the fellow would be released the instant his friends came back -from their shooting, and the whole lot of them would be on his trail -like a pack of hounds. - -Even if he did manage to get out of the country, what could he do then? -The arm of the law was long. It would reach out inexorably after him -over land and sea. He would be hounded from place to place, never -resting, never secure, always knowing that he was followed, feeling sure -that in the end tireless, never sleeping justice would find him out. - -It was maddening. To think that all his carefully laid plans should be -thwarted by a mere boy! He had waited so many weary months for this -moment only to have his triumph turn to dust and ashes in his mouth. -Everything had gone so smoothly, too, from the very first. No one had -suspected him for an instant. He had played his cards too well. The only -stumbling block had been the sudden, unexpected turning against him of -old Hickey. That had worried him intensely, but now Hickey was dead, and -he had anticipated no further difficulty. To have the whole carefully -reared edifice topple about his head like a ruined house of cards nearly -drove him mad. - -His mind flashed swiftly on into the future. He saw the grip of the law -closing about him inexorably. He would be captured, tried, sentenced. He -would be a convict, walled into that hideous gray prison up the river, -known only by a number, forced to do menial tasks. - -And what of his wife—the only human being in the world that he cared -for, besides himself. What would she do? Cling to him? Help and comfort -him, and buoy up his broken spirits? Visit him in his cell and wait -faithfully for his release? No! Marion was not that sort. She would be -furiously angry—hysterical, no doubt. She would bitterly bewail the -moment when she first set eyes on him. Her love for him would turn to -hate, and he would never see her again. - -He writhed inwardly at the thought. He could not stand it—he would not. -He glared ferociously at McCormick. But for this fool who had -accidentally stumbled upon his secret he would be safe. No one would -suspect in a thousand years. - -A sudden thought came into his mind, making even his callous nature -shrink. He thrust it from him, but it returned again and again, -whispering insidiously that it was the only way out. - -He stole a stealthy glance at the youth before him. It would be -possible. Only one life stood between him and utter ruin. He had an -instinctive horror of staining his hands with blood, but what other -course was there left him? With this fellow out of the way, he could -hold up his head once more—could go his way through the world, -apparently without a stigma. - -It would be simple, too. He could manage it without suspicion falling -upon him, if he used ordinary care. He had heard enough to know that -McCormick was not one of the original hunting party. The fellow had gone -to Middleberry that morning on an errand which he had not explained to -the others. If he did not return, they would not be surprised. They -would think he had gone back to New Haven. - -It would be easy enough to get him into the woods. He could force him to -carry the suit case full of money. That would be natural enough. The -fellow would not suspect any other motive. Jellison knew something of -the wide extent of the forest thereabouts. A body might lie hidden there -for years without any one finding it. - -These and a hundred other thoughts flashed through his mind as he stood -there silent. Archie wondered what the fellow was thinking about which -kept him quiet so long. He was curious to know what step the man -proposed taking to escape from the web in which he was involved. - -Suddenly Jellison seemed to have made up his mind. - -“Put the rest of those bills in the suit case,” he commanded, with a -threatening motion of his revolver. - -Archie hesitated an instant. - -“Do what I tell you!” snapped Jellison. “I’m a desperate man, and I -won’t answer for the consequences.” - -Then McCormick obeyed him. He could not see just what the fellow was -going to do. There was no chance at all for him to escape entirely. -Dropping down on the floor, he hastily crammed the rest of the bank -notes into the bag and then closed and locked it. - -“Now take it up and walk ahead of me,” Jellison said, in an icy voice. -“You’ve been so smart butting into my game that I’m going to get a -little use out of you. March!” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - - THE END OF THE GAME. - - -Having finished lunch and lounged on the rocks for a little while, the -four Yale men set out toward the lower fields and thickets in search of -quail. - -As before, they did not keep together long. Each one had his own ideas -as to where the birds were to be found, so presently they broke up and -continued on their way alone. - -Merriwell did not get much pleasure out of it, however. The day was -perfect, the birds fairly abundant, but his mind persisted in flying -back to the farmhouse and the mystery it contained, decidedly to the -detriment of his gunning. - -He kept wondering whether Jellison had returned to the house, and, if -so, what he was doing there. Did Jellison know of the money under the -hearth? What had taken Mac to the village? - -He was so preoccupied with all these questions that he made a number of -wretched misses, and at last he broke his gun with a snap and slipped -out the shells. - -“That’s about all for to-day,” he grumbled. “I can’t do a thing with -this on my mind. I’m going back.” - -Now that he had at last come to this decision, he wished he had done so -long ago. There was no telling what might be going on in the house by -the lake. He was a fool to have come out at all and left the treasure -unguarded. - -As he tore his way through the tangle of briars and undergrowth it -seemed as if the very bushes were trying to hinder his progress. He -could not get along fast enough, and the result was that when he emerged -into the more open forest back of the house he was a mass of cuts and -scratches and his hands were full of thorns. - -He did not stop for that, however, but kept on his way through the trees -at a dogtrot. The woods were pleasantly free from undergrowth, and -underfoot the soft, springy moss carpeted the ground as far as the eye -could reach and made his progress almost noiseless. - -He had almost reached the cleared ground about the house—had just caught -a glimpse of the bright sky line ahead, in fact—when he made out the -figure of a man slipping through the trees in front of him. - -“Who the mischief is that?” he muttered, with a perplexed frown. - -It looked a little like Joblots, but he supposed that the dapper little -fellow was by this time hundreds of miles away. At any rate, he was -determined to find out, and, quickening his pace, he rapidly and -noiselessly approached the fellow, whose back was toward him. - -A moment later he saw that it was Joblots. There was no mistaking the -shape of the little fellow’s back and head, and certainly there could be -no duplicate hereabouts of that giddy, gaudy, shiny, new khaki shooting -rig. - -Percy evidently had some very definite object in view. He did not loiter -as one enjoying the beauties of the forest, but pressed steadily forward -toward the line of clearing, darting keen glances to right and left in a -manner which was not at all like the absurd little creature they had -come upon the day before. Moreover, his gun was nowhere to be seen. - -As he approached, swiftly and noiselessly, a conviction that this time -he was watching the real man, came upon Dick with overwhelming force. -The next moment, as he reached Joblots’ side and caught his arm, he was -sure. The expression on the fellow’s face, startled and annoyed, but not -in the least idiotic, was proof positive. - -The next instant a mask fell over the small man’s countenance. - -“Grathiouth thaketh!” he gasped. “How you thurprithed——” - -“Cut that!” Dick broke in sharply. “That went last night, but there’s no -use in trying to fool me now. Who are you? and what are you after here?” - -A bewildered look came into the pale-blue eyes. - -“I weally don’t know what——” - -“Cut it, I say!” Merriwell repeated, his eyes flashing. “Spit out the -truth or I’ll knock it out of you! Quick, now! Who are you?” - -A slowly dawning expression of keen shrewdness came over the other’s -face, and for an instant he eyed Dick coolly and appraisingly. - -“You’re no fool, are you?” he said at length, in a totally different -voice. “I reckon you’ve got me straight this time.” - -He hesitated for an instant. - -“Reckon I’ll have to trust you,” he went on quickly. “I’m after the guys -who cracked the Hartford bank. Now, the question is, are you going to -help me or try to trip me up?” - -Dick’s chin squared and his eyes narrowed as the thought of Archie -flashed into his mind. It was incredible—impossible. He would not -believe. - -“Who are you after?” he asked at length. - -“That feller McCormick,” returned the detective quickly. “He was seen -around the bank just before the robbery. Him an’ his two pals took the -train out in the morning. At Milton they separated. He come here with -the swag, an’ the other two went on. My partner is following them.” - -“What makes you think McCormick has the swag?” Dick asked, though his -heart was cold within him. - -“I don’t think; I know,” the man answered. “He brought it in a big bag, -and last night he hid it under the hearth in the dining room. I heard -him sneak downstairs, and I slipped through the kitchen and watched him. -There ain’t no doubt about it.” - -Dick did not speak. His heart was too full for words. What he had tried -not to believe was true. All the time that he had been watching Mac -through the crack in the door the detective had been on the lookout from -the kitchen. In spite of all, he could not seem to think of Archie as a -thief. How had he ever been roped into such a thing? - -“Well, what are you going to do?” he inquired presently, in a listless -voice. - -“Pinch him,” returned the detective tersely. “I’ve been holding off in -hopes of getting his pals. Thought he telegraphed ’em this morning, but -he didn’t. The agent wouldn’t tell me what was in the message he sent, -but I did find out that the reply came from Bloomfield. It ain’t likely -his pals are there. It’s too far away.” - -Dick caught his breath suddenly. - -“Bloomfield!” he exclaimed, and then was silent. - -Bloomfield was where his brother Frank’s school was located. Just now -Archie McCormick’s brother, the one who had served a term in State’s -prison, happened also to be there. What did it all mean? Why was Archie -telegraphing to Jim? His thoughts were suddenly broken in upon by the -detective’s voice. - -“Well,” he said briskly, “what are you going to do, help me or hinder -me?” - -“Neither one or the other,” Merriwell said shortly. “I can’t hinder you, -and I certainly don’t propose to help you arrest a friend of mine, -especially when I don’t believe he’s had anything to do with this -robbery.” - -“That’s all rot,” Joblots said quickly. “The thing’s as good as proved. -Well, I’ve got to get busy. There ain’t no time to waste.” - -He started on toward the edge of the woods, Dick following him -listlessly. His mind absolutely refused to credit the truth of the -detective’s assertions, even with the proof seemingly as unassailable as -it was. He would not believe that Archie was a thief. There must be some -other explanation of his peculiar actions. - -Suddenly Joblots, reaching the fringe of trees which bordered the field, -stopped short. - -“Thunder!” he exclaimed. “Here he comes now with the swag. Jellison, -too. What do you think of that! I never suspected Jellison.” - -Leaning over his shoulder, Merriwell saw that he was right. Coming -toward the woods from the house were two men, walking in single file. -The first one, unmistakably Archie, carried a large dress suit case -under the weight of which he seemed barely able to stagger. Behind him -walked Andrew Jellison. What did it mean? Was it possible that the two -were friends and partners in this crime? Had Archie deceived him from -the first? - -Suddenly his eyes narrowed and he drew a quick breath. The next instant -he was slipping back through the trees and doubling toward the point -where the path entered the forest. Joblots caught up with him. - -“You said you wouldn’t hinder,” he whispered hoarsely. “You’re going to -warn them.” - -“I’m going to help you,” Dick snapped. “Are you blind, man? Don’t you -see what’s happened? Jellison is forcing Mac to go with him. He’s -driving him along with a gun! Hush, now! Don’t make a sound.” - -Bewildered, incredulous, the detective followed Merriwell closely. He -could not believe what the Yale man had said, but there was nothing else -to do, except follow in the other’s lead. - -In a moment they had reached the edge of the path and crouched in the -bushes. They were just in time. Already the feet of the two men rustled -in the leaves near at hand. - -“How long are you going to keep up this farce?” they heard McCormick -say. “You certainly can’t expect to force me to go on to Middleberry.” - -“Never you mind!” snapped Jellison. “Shut your face and do as I tell -you!” - -The next instant Archie passed Dick’s hiding place, staggering under the -weight of the heavy bag. A moment later Jellison appeared. - -Without a single preliminary sound, Merriwell’s lithe body, launched -from the thicket with a spring like that of a panther, struck the -cashier full on the back, and the two crashed to the ground together. -The shock knocked the revolver from the fellow’s hand, and, though he -struggled hard, Dick had no difficulty in holding him down. Then he -looked about him. - -Archie had dropped the bag and was staring at the tangle of arms and -legs in a dazed fashion. As he recognized Dick, he gave a shout of joy. - -“Thank Heaven, you came in time, old fellow!” he exclaimed. “I’ve been -an awful fool. He was just getting away with all the money.” - -A look of triumph appeared on Joblots’ face. - -“Ah! ha!” he muttered. “What did I tell you?” - -“What money?” Dick demanded. “Quick, Archie! What are you talking -about?” - -His face was strained with the suspense of waiting. - -“The money he stole from the Metropolis Bank two years ago,” McCormick -answered eagerly. “He’s the thief. He’s the one who sent Jim to prison. -He hid the money under the hearth, expecting to get it after everything -was safe, but old man Hickey wouldn’t let him in. He came last night for -it. I was awake and heard him slip downstairs. I followed him and saw -him take up the stone to see if it was still there. After he had gone, I -looked myself. There’s no doubt about it.” - -Joblots listened with a growing expression of mortification and chagrin. - -“Yah!” he snapped. “I don’t believe it! You stole that money from the -Hartford bank two nights ago!” - -Archie looked at him in utter bewilderment. Then his face darkened. - -“You fool!” he ripped out. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing! Look -and see. The wrappers are still around the bills.” - -Scowling fiercely at Joblots, he kicked the bag with one foot. - -In an instant the detective was on his knees, fumbling with the catch. -Then, as it yielded, he threw back the cover and snatched up one of the -packages. His face was incredulous. Tossing down the packet he picked up -another, and yet another. They were all the same. Presently he arose -slowly to his feet. - -“By thunder!” he muttered. “Looks like there was something in it.” - -Then he looked keenly at Archie. - -“What were you doing around the bank in Hartford at twelve o’clock the -night of the robbery?” he asked significantly. - -“Coming home from a smoker,” the Yale man returned quickly. - -“How about those guys you were chummy with on the train yesterday?” -persisted Joblots. - -“Never saw them before in my life,” McCormick smiled. “We got talking to -each other in the train.” - -The detective looked nonplused. Before he had time to think of any more -questions, a sanctimonious voice sounded from the path behind the little -group. - -“Behold the wicked man who diggeth a pit and falleth into it himself. -Look’s as if you’d got him this time, gents.” - -Dick loosened his grip on Jellison and sprang to his feet. The ruddy -face of the Reverend Jeremy Pennyfeather grinned at him from a little -distance. His eyes were twinkling shrewdly, and he did not look quite so -pious as he had that morning. - -“Well!” Dick remarked. “Are you another detective?” - -The fellow laughed. - -“Guessed right the first crack, my friend,” he returned easily. “I was -sent out by Mr. Frank Merriwell to keep watch of this here gent.” - -He indicated the sullen, lowering Jellison, who had raised himself to a -sitting posture. - -“Looks like you boys had saved me a lot of trouble. Caught him with the -goods, didn’t you?” - -Dick nodded. - -“Yes, and I hope he gets the biggest penalty that can be imposed,” he -said sternly. “He’s pretty near ruined one man’s life.” - -“There ain’t any doubt he’ll git all that’s coming to him,” the lank -fellow said, in a tone of satisfaction. “We ought to be able to catch -the last train down and give him his first taste of jail to-night.” - -“And I’ll go with you,” Archie said decidedly. “I want to see him good -and safe.” - -They all finally decided to go as far as Lysander Cobmore’s place, from -which Archie and the detective could proceed alone with the guilty man. -Making their way quickly through the woods, they found the farmer -standing by the barn, a yellow envelope in his hand. His eyes lit up as -they fell upon the dapper figure of Joblots. - -“Waal, waal,” he drawled. “If you ain’t saved me a heap o’ trouble. This -here telegram was jest brought from town, and I hadn’t no more notion -than a cat what to do with it.” - -He handed the envelope to the detective, who tore it open eagerly. As he -took in the contents, his face darkened and he bit his lips angrily. - -“Two days wasted!” he snapped, crumpling the message in his hand, and -tossing it to the ground. “Wouldn’t that frost you!” - -The Reverend Pennyfeather made no bones about picking it up, and, when -he had spread it out, this was what he read: - -“Hartford crooks nabbed at Westfield. Swag recovered. You are on false -trail. Report at office at once.” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XV - - AS IN A LOOKING-GLASS. - - -The day was overcast and lowery. It was not actually raining, but the -raw wind from the Sound brought with it a heavy mist, damp and clogging, -which was almost as bad. The crispness was taken out of everything, the -sidewalks were dank and slippery, and pedestrians hurried along the -streets with turned-up collars, turned-down hat brims, and a general air -of shivery unpleasantness, as if they hated themselves, the people they -brushed elbows with, and, above all else, the business which made it -necessary for them to be out in such sloppy weather. - -Dick Merriwell, who had returned to New Haven, was no exception to the -general rule as he walked along Chapel Street toward the campus. His -long, loose, tightly buttoned coat, with the collar turned above the -ears, was covered with a multitude of tiny drips of moisture, almost -like hoarfrost. The brim of his soft felt hat was pulled down over his -eyes, and now and then a drop of water gathered at the point and -splashed to the sidewalk. - -He had been out on a rather important errand and, being anxious to get -over to the dining hall on time, he did not dawdle, but strode along, -gloved hands deep down in his pockets, growling under his breath -maledictions on the weather which would effectually prevent any football -practice on the field that afternoon. - -He was walking on the inside of the sidewalk, close to the shop windows, -and had almost reached the corner of Temple Street when he collided -violently with a man who came dashing out of a store without a glance to -see where he was going. - -Both men staggered a little from the shock and the stranger’s black -derby was knocked off. It was rolling toward the gutter when Dick caught -it and turned to restore it to its owner. - -“Beg pardon,” he said regretfully. “I had no idea——” - -He stopped abruptly, his eyes widening with astonishment. For a second -he stared in bewilderment at the young man before him. - -“Well, I’ll be hanged!” he ejaculated. - -The other man looked scarcely less surprised. - -“Exactly!” he returned. “You took the very words out of my mouth.” - -His keen, dark eyes were surveying Merriwell in much the same way that -the Yale man looked at him, and his handsome face wore on it just such a -look of whimsical perplexity as distinguished Dick’s countenance. - -And smaller wonder. Had the two been twin brothers they could scarcely -have been more alike. There was not a fraction of an inch variation in -their heights. Both were well set-up, broad-shouldered, slim-hipped, -with the lithe grace of carriage which distinguishes the well-developed -athlete. Both had dark hair and equally dark eyes, straight noses, and -well-shaped, sensitive mouths. - -The fellow who had come out of the shop looked a trifle older than the -Yale senior, and there were a number of minor points about his face and -figure which would be quite apparent to a close observer when the two -men were together; but, taken all in all, the resemblance was quite -close enough to warrant the surprise which each one manifested at the -sight of the other. - -Merriwell recovered his customary poise first. - -“It certainly does give a fellow a queer feeling to run up against his -double in this casual sort of way,” he remarked lightly. - -“Doesn’t it?” replied the stranger. “You don’t happen to be some -long-lost brother that I’ve never heard of, do you?” - -Dick smiled. - -“I doubt it,” he returned. “I never had but one, and he looks less like -me than you do. Perhaps somewhere back in the dark ages our ancestors -were the same. My name is Merriwell, by the bye.” - -The other gave a sudden start and a look of chagrin flashed over his -face. - -“Merriwell!” he exclaimed. “Dick Merriwell, of Yale! Of course. If I -wasn’t the thickest sort of a blockhead that ever walked, I’d have -caught on before.” - -The Yale man looked puzzled. - -“It isn’t possible we’ve ever met before,” he said quickly. “You’re not -the sort of man I’d be likely to forget in a hurry.” - -The stranger laughed. - -“We’ve never met, though I’ve tried to meet you a number of times,” he -laughed. “But I’ve seen you more than once. I can’t think why I didn’t -recognize you at once. I suppose it’s because I’ve never had a really -good, close look at you before. It has always been a long-distance -glimpse from the bleachers or the grand stand out on the athletic field, -and you know how football paraphernalia disguises a fellow. - -“By Jove! I’m glad I was Johnny-on-the-spot just now, even if I did -nearly knock you down. My name is Austin Demarest, and I certainly am -glad to meet you.” - -He held out a slim, brown hand with such an air of pleasure and -camaraderie that Merriwell could not help a feeling of satisfaction as -he clasped it in his own. - -“And I you, Mr. Demarest,” he returned quickly. “I have a notion that I -could like you a lot if I ever had a chance. Perhaps that sounds rather -conceited, though.” - -“Sort of in the nature of self-praise, eh?” chuckled Demarest. “It would -be tough if a fellow couldn’t get along pretty well with himself, -wouldn’t it?” - -Unconsciously they had turned and were walking slowly along Chapel -Street. Each one seemed unable to refrain from throwing occasional swift -glances at the other, as if to satisfy himself that the odd resemblance -was really a concrete fact and not some chance figment of the -imagination. - -Presently their eyes met and both burst out laughing. - -“It doesn’t seem right,” chuckled Demarest. “I can’t get used to looking -at you as if I were gazing at a mirror.” - -“Nor I,” Merriwell agreed. “What sport we could have if you were only in -the university. I can conjure up all sorts of attractive possibilities.” - -“Such as substitution in lecture rooms?” suggested Demarest slyly. - -“Not so much that as the fun we could have outside,” Dick answered. “By -the way, what was the reason you wanted to meet me so much?” - -Demarest did not answer at once. His face clouded and the laughter died -out of his eyes. It was as if the question had recalled to his mind -something disagreeable which had, for the moment, been forgotten. Twice -he glanced hesitatingly at Merriwell in a troubled, doubtful sort of way -as one who does not know quite what course to pursue. - -“It’s a rather long story,” he said, at length; “and yet I think I’d -like to tell it, if you have time to listen. Have you got anything on -for a couple of hours? Couldn’t you come in and lunch with me?” - -He made a quick gesture toward the New Haven House, at the entrance to -which they had stopped an instant before. - -“Why, yes,” Dick returned readily, “I’ll be very glad to. I was on my -way to the dining hall, but this will be much better.” - -Demarest’s face cleared. - -“Good,” he said tersely. “I’m in the deuce of a hole, and perhaps you -can help me out of it. Even if you can’t, there’s always a certain -satisfaction in pouring one’s woes into a sympathetic ear.” - -Dick smiled as they entered the hotel lobby and walked toward the -cloakroom. - -“What makes you so sure my ear will be sympathetic?” he asked. “You may -get a terrible disappointment.” - -“I guess not,” Demarest returned quickly. “We look so much alike that -the resemblance can’t possibly stop at that. And I’m so blamed sorry for -myself that sometimes I could fairly weep at my own misfortunes. Haven’t -you felt sad sometimes without knowing the reason why?” - -Merriwell nodded. - -“Once in a while, yes.” - -“I knew it!” Demarest exclaimed. “Those were the times when I was being -more severely mauled by the Goddess of Misfortune than usual. Sort of -mental telepathy, you know. But come, let’s not waste any more precious -minutes. I fairly pine to let loose the floodgates of self-confession, -and over there in the corner I see an empty table which had been saved -for us by a special dispensation of providence.” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - - AUSTIN DEMAREST, ACTOR. - - -As Dick settled down on one side of the cozy little table near one of -the windows and unfolded his napkin he felt a pleasant glow of -satisfaction stealing over him. Short as was their acquaintance, he -already felt a distinct liking for the man opposite him, whose handsome -face still impressed him with the odd sensation of looking into a mirror -and seeing his own countenance reflected there. - -The fellow was very evidently a gentleman by birth and breeding. That -had been plain from the first moment of their unconventional meeting. -His manners were unexceptionable, and he had a certain air of polished -refinement which was manifest to Merriwell’s keen perception in a dozen -unobtrusive ways. - -But more than all else the Yale man was attracted by the other’s manner -of talking. Whimsical, half bantering, almost careless, there was yet -about it an undercurrent of seriousness, which gave the barest hint of -the real man beneath that disguising mask and made Dick eager for a more -thorough knowledge of the character which he felt would prove more -interesting by far than that of the majority of men. - -Demarest picked up the card and ordered luncheon with the swiftness and -taste of a connoisseur. He evidently had the rare art of selecting an -attractive meal without spending a half hour at it. Then, folding his -arms loosely, he leaned forward. - -“Let’s begin at the beginning,” he said with twinkling eyes. “That -sounds a little unnecessary, I know, but so few people really do begin a -story where they ought. Probably you’ve noticed it, though. For -instance, I am strongly tempted to plunge headfirst into the maelstrom -of my troubles, and it is only by a strong effort of will that I bring -myself to begin where I ought to lead you gradually thence to a -consideration of the worst.” - -While he was talking, Dick became conscious of the remarkable beauty and -purity of his voice. His tones were rather low, and he spoke with just a -hint of the fascinating Southern drawl; but every syllable was clear and -distinct, and now and then there was a sudden raising or lowering of the -pitch which had a distinctly dramatic effect. Merriwell found himself -thinking what an admirable actor the man would make, if his histrionic -ability only matched his voice. He was consequently almost startled when -Demarest went on: - -“Know, kind second self, that I am an actor. From my earliest days I -longed to tread the magic boards and pour out my soul to vast applauding -audiences through the medium of our immortal dramatists. At the age of -twelve I had learned the parts of _Hamlet_ and _Brutus_. Can you fancy -it? Two years later I had built a puppet stage in the attic of our -country home and organized a company of which I was, of course, the -star. In times of need and scarcity of talent, I have been known to play -several parts in one performance. The admission to those matchless -performances was, I recollect, a penny. You will perceive that those -were the good old days before the trust came upon us and before the -régime of the ubiquitous ticket speculator.” - -Dick smiled appreciatively. There was something fascinating in the -fellow’s whimsical, airy manner. - -“But why linger on those far-away times?” Demarest went on quickly. “I -only touch upon them that you may see beyond peradventure that I was -destined for the stage. Sad to say, my esteemed family thought -otherwise. What was cute and cunning in a child became mad folly—in -their estimation—when I reached the age of manhood and still persisted -in my determination. I haunted the theatre, breathing in the -indescribable atmosphere of the place as if it were the nectar and -ambrosia of the gods. Then my people became seriously alarmed and packed -me off to Cambridge. At first I was in despair and planned to run away, -but in the end I stuck it out and I have always been thankful. Unknown -to my family, who thought I was following the old-fashioned, stereotyped -course, I specialized in elocution, English literature, and the modern -languages, which have been of inestimable service to me ever since.” - -He paused, as the waiter appeared with the first course and deftly -placed it before the two men. Dick was much interested in the recital. - -“Of course you persisted in your determination to go on the stage,” he -said quickly. “I imagine you had a rather strenuous time after you -graduated.” - -Demarest sighed and made an expressive gesture with his shapely, brown -hands. - -“Precisely,” he returned. “Over that let us draw a veil. I won out in -the end, but it was only by a display of the utmost firmness. My father -called it pigheadedness. To this day they are not reconciled, though I -fancy they are beginning to be resigned. - -“I took a course in the best dramatic school in New York, and, when I -left that, got a minor position in the company of one of our leading -actor dramatists. It was the merest trifle. I think I had barely half a -dozen lines, but I was rejoiced, for it was a foothold. I had reached -the bottom rung of the ladder up which I meant to climb to the very top. -I worked hard. Before the company left New York I had mastered half a -dozen rôles and was letter-perfect. I had a fancy that I could not -improve on several of them, but my chance did not come until we were -playing in Chicago, where the leading juvenile was suddenly seized with -appendicitis. He had no understudy—happily for me. I went at once to Mr. -Manton and boldly asked for the part. To my astonishment, almost without -word, he agreed to try me out at a rehearsal. I found out afterward that -he had been keeping an eye on me ever since I entered the company. He -was the best friend I ever had.” - -He stopped, took a few sips of his bouillon, and leaned back in his -chair. - -“You made good?” Dick questioned eagerly. “But of course you must have.” - -“Thanks to Mr. Manton, I did,” returned Demarest. “He took infinite -pains with me, as he always did with any one he thought worth the -trouble. I kept that part for the remainder of the season, and the next -fall I had one almost as good, though of a totally different sort. Then -came my patron’s sudden death. It was a terrible blow to me, quite apart -from the fact that I was thrown out of a job; for I had grown to be -amazingly fond of him. But I had little time for repining. I had to find -something to do and it did not prove to be so easy as I had supposed. It -was then that I had my first experience with the so-called theatrical -trust, the members of which control many of the companies and theatres, -in this country. - -“At last I landed a job, but it was a good deal of a come-down both in -salary and importance. But even under their auspices I kept on going -slowly upward until I reached a point which would have contented most -men. Perhaps it should have contented me, but I knew I hadn’t reached -the very top, and that I was determined to do, or perish in the attempt. - -“About that time—which was last fall, to be explicit—I suddenly decided -to write a play. The germ had been in my mind for a long period, but I -lacked the time to follow it out. Happily the company disbanded earlier -than usual last spring, and I at once set to work on my pet idea. I -succeeded even better than I had hoped, for the play was good stuff and -the leading part a crackajack.” - -He paused and smiled at Merriwell. - -“This is the point where you step upon the stage,” he went on. “It’s -taken a long time to get there, hasn’t it?” - -Dick’s face was full of puzzled curiosity. - -“You are the hero of the play,” Demarest explained, with twinkling eyes. - -“I?” gasped the Yale man. “I don’t understand.” - -The actor pushed aside his salad and rested one arm lightly on the -table. - -“It’s this way,” he said, in his low, musical voice. “Though I had never -met you, I had heard a lot about you from mutual friends and had seen -you more than once on the diamond and gridiron. Consequently, when I -decided that the play should be one of college life with the scene laid -in New Haven, I felt that you would make an admirable character for the -leading man. Of course, I ran you in under a different name, but I took -the liberty of using a good many of your characteristics, and while I -wrote I had you constantly in mind. I hope you don’t object, for it was -rather cheeky.” - -Merriwell laughed. - -“Why, no, I don’t mind; but I’m afraid you’ve been stung. There’s -nothing of the hero about me.” - -“Oh, modesty, thou rare and precious quality!” murmured Demarest. “I’ve -made a hero of you, then, against your will. When you’ve read the play -you will see yourself in a different light. But I suppose by this time -you, are wondering where my troubles come in.” - -“A little,” Dick confessed. “So far your career seems to have been an -unqualified success.” - -“Listen, and you shall hear the dire story. Having the play, it never -occurred to me that I could fail to find an opening. Plenty of actors -with no more ability than I have been advanced to stellar rôles. That -sounds conceited, but it isn’t. It’s a fact. But when I approached my -managers, Buffer and Lane, with the proposition, they turned me down. -Said the play was all right and wanted to buy it, but wouldn’t give me -the leading part. They wanted that for one of their pets. Of course, I -refused to let them have it and went to another firm, who were not -supposedly connected with Buffer and Lane. - -“It was the same story there. Nothing doing for me. I tried still -another man with the same result, and then I got mad. If they wouldn’t -bring me out I’d produce the play myself. I knew it would make a hit if -it got a chance, and I had lately received a legacy from my grandmother, -which was enough to cover all initial expenses of the production. So I -went blithely on my way, had the scenery done, engaged the company, got -the costumes made. I went to one of the independent managers in New York -and got him to promise to put me on at his theatre providing the play -tried out successfully. And he insisted that the opening performance -should be given in New Haven. Of course, he was right. College men are -the best critics in the world, and if a play, especially of this sort, -succeeds here, it will go anywhere.” - -Dick nodded understandingly. - -“Of course,” he agreed quickly. “What’s your trouble, then? Why don’t -you produce it at one of the small theatres?” - -Demarest shrugged his shoulders. - -“Simply because Buffer and Lane object, and the trust, booking Buffer -and Lane’s companies, has lent an acquiescent ear. They absolutely -refuse to give me a single date at either place. They say every night is -booked for the remainder of the season.” - -“What nonsense!” Merriwell exclaimed. “Surely there must be some open -nights.” - -“Of course there are,” Demarest returned quickly. “But not for yours -truly. Don’t you see their game? If they can prevent my appearing in New -Haven, they figure that I won’t get a show anywhere, and then they -probably imagine that I’ll crawl and let them have the play.” - -Dick’s face flushed and his eyes flashed angrily. - -“What a lot of sharks they must be!” he exclaimed. “By Jove! I wish you -could find some place they don’t control and beat them out at their own -game.” - -“You can’t wish it any more fervently than I do,” Demarest returned -seriously. - -“Have you tried the Strand?” Merriwell asked presently. - -The actor nodded. - -“Yes, and was politely but firmly turned down.” - -For a few minutes there was silence. Demarest toyed with his ice, while -Merriwell gazed thoughtfully at the tablecloth. Suddenly he raised his -head and his eyes brightened. - -“I’ve got it!” he exclaimed eagerly. “The old Concert Hall. I’ll bet -none of the New York managers control that!” - -Demarest looked dubious. - -“The Concert Hall!” he echoed. “But that’s got a—a—well, a reputation, -hasn’t it?” - -“Yes, it has,” Dick admitted, “but I don’t see why that should stand in -your way. If it was made clear that you were unable to bring out a play -at any of the other houses, I don’t think people would stay away on -account of the reputation of that house. Certainly the fellows wouldn’t. -They go to see everything in the nature of college plays which comes to -town. I admit that, more often than not, they go with the idea of -picking flaws in the piece, but if it’s what you say it is, it ought to -succeed. At any rate, you’d have your audience, and it would be up to -you to do the rest.” - -Demarest’s eyes brightened and he nodded emphatically. - -“You can trust me for that,” he said decidedly. “All I want is the -audience. The play’s all right. Buffer and Lane would never have made an -offer for it if it hadn’t been pretty good. I don’t know but that idea -of yours will prove a life saver, Merriwell. I was just about at my -wit’s end, but you’ve put new heart into me.” - -Summoning the waiter, he paid the check, and they walked out to the -lobby. - -“I believe I’ll go down there right away,” Demarest said, after a -moment’s consideration. “It’s the only chance left, and I have got to -decide one way or another at once. It isn’t fair for me to keep the -company on a string any longer if there’s not going to be an opportunity -of opening here. Won’t you come along with me? You’ve started the thing -going, and it’s only fair to see me through.” - -“Of course I will,” Dick said quickly. “I’m so keen about it, I don’t -want to miss a single trick.” - -Getting into their coats, they hurried out of the hotel and five minutes -later had reached the old Concert Hall. It was a house of good size and -in its prime had been the scene of many well-known productions, but for -years having been given over to vaudeville, moving pictures, and shows -of a certain grade, it was in a wretched state of dinginess. - -Demarest was almost discouraged as he stood in the centre of the -orchestra and looked about him. The place seemed utterly impossible, but -presently his trained eye took in the various good points, which -included an ample stage, though, at present, it was cluttered with odds -and ends and backed with faded, crude, fearfully painted scenery. - -“Pretty bad, isn’t it?” he remarked. “I can’t imagine a high-grade -audience consenting to spend three hours here.” - -“All the same,” Dick said quickly, “a little work will make a wonderful -improvement. How’s the stage? Is it big enough?” - -“Plenty. My sets will fit all right, but I shudder to think what that -drop curtain looks like.” - -He smiled wryly as he glanced up at the rolled-up curtain. - -“I’ve never seen it, but I should imagine it was the limit,” Merriwell -answered. “Couldn’t it be painted over, or something like that?” - -“I suppose so.” - -After another searching look around, Demarest led the way through a door -back of the boxes to the stage itself. It certainly was dilapidated, and -the dressing rooms were cramped and bad, but the young actor was at his -wit’s end; and when he left the place an hour later he had engaged the -house for Thursday night of that week, had the signed lease in his -pocket and, more than that, had paid the money down. He had learned to -leave nothing to chance. He had a feeling that the moment the members of -the trust learned of the step he had taken they would do their best to -prevent his opening even at the Concert Hall, and he was determined that -they should not succeed. - -That afternoon was a busy one. Before dark, Demarest had engaged an army -of cleaners, scrubwomen, and painters, to report the first thing in the -morning at the theatre. He had gone to the printer’s and ordered special -paper printed in which was stated that, owing to the impossibility of -obtaining a date at any other theatre, Austin Demarest, the talented -young actor who had done such good work in the productions of the late -Richard Manton, and latterly under the management of Buffer and Lane, -was forced to bring out his new drama of college life, “Jarvis of Yale,” -at the Concert Hall, which had been especially renovated and redecorated -for the occasion. - -These bills were to be spread broadcast on the boards all over the city -the next morning, and when Demarest reached the hotel toward five -o’clock he had reason to be thoroughly satisfied with the afternoon’s -work. - -Merriwell had accompanied him on his rounds through the city. His -interest and enthusiasm were wrought to a high pitch, and his -suggestions on various points had been of much service to the actor. - -“It certainly was a lucky moment when I ran you down this morning,” -Demarest said, as they dropped down in some chairs in the lobby. “I was -simply up against a dead wall, and now things seem to be coming around -all right, thanks to your advice and suggestions. I really think we’ll -be able to make a halfway decent place out of the old barn. Of course it -won’t be anything like one of the other houses, but it will be clean.” - -“And the best part of it is that you will get ahead of the fellows who -have tried to keep you under,” Dick said quickly. “It makes me hot under -the collar every time I think of the way they’ve tried to keep you down -so that they can get the play for themselves. By the way, old fellow, I -hope you have a copy of it here. I’m no end anxious to read it.” - -“And I want you to,” Demarest returned emphatically. “I want your -critical opinion of it. I expect there’s a lot of places in it where you -can suggest improvements. I’ll give you a copy before you go to-night, -and you can read it and let me know what you think of it in the -morning.” - -As he spoke, he picked up a newspaper which lay on the next chair and -glanced carelessly down the columns. Suddenly he stiffened and drew a -quick breath. - -“Blazes!” he burst out the next instant. - -“What’s the matter?” Dick asked quickly. - -Demarest’s face was set and a little pale. He was evidently keeping a -grip on himself only by a great effort. - -“Look at that!” he cried, extending the paper. “Just look at that, will -you? If that isn’t a put-up job, I’d like to know what you’d call it.” - -Dick snatched the paper from his nervous fingers and bent over the page. -As he read the paragraph which the actor had pointed out, his eyes -narrowed and a frown appeared on his forehead. - -“Friday—Arcadian Theatre,” he murmured swiftly, “first production on any -stage—John Tennant’s great drama of college life, ‘Fenwick of -Yale’—management Ralph Bryton.” - -“Great Scott!” Merriwell exclaimed, looking up swiftly. “They’re trying -to get ahead of you! Trying to cut you out by producing a college play -with almost exactly the same name! What a dirty trick!” - -“Read the rest of it!” Demarest exclaimed angrily. - -Unable to contain himself, he took the paper from Dick’s hand. - -“Listen: ‘Great football scene. Nothing like it ever shown on the -stage.’ My scene, Merriwell, I’ll wager anything! ‘Tremendously strong -third act.’ My third act is the climax of the play! ‘The whole play from -start to finish is so true to life, and so filled with the atmosphere of -a real college town, that the spectator will find it hard to believe he -is not watching a concrete segment taken directly from the life in the -greatest university in America. The management has been fortunate in -securing the services of the following actors and actresses for this -important production.’” - -Crumpling the paper in a shapeless mass, Demarest tossed it angrily -aside. - -“I’d be willing to take my oath, Merriwell,” he said bitterly, “that -those villains have stolen the very plot of my play; or, if they -haven’t, they’ve got something which follows as close on the lines of -‘Jarvis, of Yale,’ as they dared, and still be within the law. They open -Friday, you see. I did not intend having my first night until next -Monday, until we got the Concert Hall to-day, so they thought they’d get -ahead of me. Great Scott, man! If they put their play on first, there -wouldn’t be a handful come to my opening. It would be the greatest frost -you ever saw.” - -“But you’re all right,” Dick said eagerly. “You open Thursday. They’ll -be the ones to get the frost.” - -“I’m not so sure about that,” Demarest said, in a worried tone. “People -seeing a college play billed at the Arcadian for Friday are not likely -to go to such a hole as the Concert Hall the night before for -practically the same thing. They’ll think that I am the one who is -copying their play, and Ralph Bryton will do his best to have that -impression circulated. He hates me like poison and has been the one more -responsible than any one else for the trust turning me down.” - -Suddenly the actor gave a start. - -“The paper!” he cried. “I never thought! They’ll get theirs out ahead of -ours, and there won’t be a square foot of boarding left by the time mine -are printed in the morning.” - -“But they don’t know about what you’ve done to-day,” Dick objected. -“They don’t know you’ve hired the Concert Hall. - -“They’ll find out quick enough when they go to Lawford in the morning,” -Demarest said despairingly. “He’ll tell them about my bills. The printer -won’t have them ready until ten o’clock, and they’ll pay Lawford a bonus -to put theirs up instead of mine. I know them and their tricks. And if -the town isn’t well papered, we might as well give up on the spot.” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - - THE POWER OF PERSUASION. - - -It seemed as if this final catastrophe was the last straw which broke -the camel’s back. Austin Demarest had held out bravely against the many -blows which fickle fortune had showered upon him. He had deliberately -placed himself in opposition to a great power, and, with smiling face -and never-failing courage, had resolutely held out against their -machinations. - -They had shut the doors of most reputable theatres against him, and he -had circumvented them. They had threatened members of the theatrical -profession with their displeasure if any of them agreed to play for -Demarest, but in spite of that, the young actor had gathered together a -very fair company, many of whom had signed with him knowing full well -that they were spoiling their chances with the syndicate, but trusting -to the talented, magnetic young actor-manager to pull things through. -The leading lady, Marion Gray, had refused an offer from Buffer and Lane -of twice the money Demarest was able to give her, but it was rumored -that she was so attached to the latter that she would have played for -him without any salary at all. Demarest himself seemed to be the only -one of the company who had not observed the significant signs on the -part of the very attractive young lady, and had gone on his way seeming -serenely unconscious of the state of affairs. - -But now this last blow had utterly unnerved him. It was so totally -unexpected and had come at a time when he had at last begun to see light -through the dark clouds, that it was no wonder he was discouraged. There -seemed to be no way by which he could come out ahead this time, and he -sat there in the big leather chair, a feeling of hopeless failure in his -heart. - -Dick Merriwell was not so easily downed. He snatched out his watch and, -with a swift glance at it, sprang to his feet. - -“Come on, old fellow,” he said incisively. “We haven’t got a minute to -lose.” - -Demarest stood up slowly, instinctively. His eyes were puzzled. - -“What——” he began. - -Dick caught him by the arm and drew him toward the door. - -“Hustle!” he cried. “Don’t stop to argue!” - -“But where——” - -“The printer’s!” broke in Merriwell. “We’ve got to get those bills done -to-night!” - -By this time they were outside the hotel and hurrying down the street. -Though he did not quite see what his new friend had in mind, Demarest -was unconsciously heartened by the Yale man’s decisive manner, and hope -began to dawn again in his breast. - -“You can’t give up now,” urged Merriwell, as they dodged around a corner -and went down the side street almost at a run. “You’ve got to beat them. -You’ve got your regular paper ready. We must get this special work -printed and placed before morning. It’s the only way. It’s simply got to -be done!” - -“But how can you?” objected the actor. “The printers won’t stay over -hours. Lawford won’t put them up in the dark.” - -“We can try,” Dick ripped out. “If he won’t put them up, somebody else -can. It’s a question of your whole future; you can’t lay down now.” - -Little by little, under the dominating influence of Merriwell’s -personality, Demarest’s courage returned and his face brightened. They -reached the printing house just as the whistle blew and, dashing -upstairs, encountered a swarm of men hurrying down. - -“Stop a minute, fellows, will you?” Dick said quickly. - -The men paused, a wondering throng, on the stairs. They could see -Merriwell’s face but dimly in the light from the single flaring gas jet. - -“That order for the bills of the ‘Jarvis of Yale’ production at the -Concert Hall which was brought in this afternoon,” he said rapidly but -distinctly. “Have they been started yet?” - -There was a moment’s pause, and then a voice from the back of the crowd -growled: - -“Ain’t mor’n half set up.” - -“They’ve got to be done by midnight,” Merriwell went on swiftly. “It’s a -matter of life and death to my friend, here, boys. He’s simply got to -have them then, or he goes under. Won’t enough of your fellows stay -to-night to get them out? Every one who helps us out will get a -ten-dollar bill.” - -“The day’s work is done,” grumbled one man. “I ain’t goin’ ter work no -overtime.” - -“Me neither,” growled another. - -“Why in thunder didn’t yer bring ’em in this morning, if yer wanted ’em -in such a rush?” snapped a third. - -“I wants me supper.” - -There was a restless, forward movement of the crowd, eager to be gone, -and Demarest groaned softly. In that single instant he saw his well-laid -plans crumbling into nothingness, his fortune swept away, himself -ruined. Then Merriwell began to speak again. - -“Just a minute, boys, till I tell you a little more,” he said quickly. -“My friend is an actor who has got the theatrical trust down on him. He -wanted to bring out his play in New Haven, at the Arcadian. They -wouldn’t let him have that theatre—nor any other in town. They shut him -out, but they forgot the old Concert Hall. That’s why the show is coming -off there. And now the trust is going to put a play on at the Arcadian -Friday night which is as near my friend’s play as they can make it. They -think they’ll get ahead of him and make him draw a frost. If these bills -aren’t up before daybreak that’s what will happen. Won’t you fellow -change your minds and help us?” - -He had chosen his argument skillfully. The mention of a trust to the -average workingman is like a red flag to a bull. They hated the thought -of these monstrous creations of modern commerce, and perhaps there was -reason for that hate. At any rate, the prospect of foiling a great -combination of capital was the only thing which could possibly have -induced those printers to work overtime that night, and even at that -their consent was rather grudging. - -“Well, if yer puts it that way,” one said hesitatingly. “I s’pose I kin -stay. How about it, Bill?” - -“I’ll stay if you will.” - -“Say, mister,” piped up a small boy, one of the devils, “who are you, -anyhow?” - -“Dick Merriwell,” the Yale man answered. - -“Golly!” exclaimed the youngster, open-mouthed. “The twirler! What d’yer -think of dat, Pete?” - -He grinned engagingly at Merriwell. - -“I’ll help yer out, Dick,” he said impudently. - -“Good boy, kid,” the Yale man laughed. “You’re the stuff, all right.” - -That seemed to be the turning point. Many of the men knew Merriwell, who -was a popular idol among all classes of baseball fans, and the prospect -of doing him a good turn, and at the same time thwarting a trust, so -appealed to the men that the majority of them turned about and went back -to the printing rooms. - -The foreman was won over without a great deal of trouble. He was a -thrifty Scotchman, and the prospect of the twenty dollars which Dick -promised him considerably more than overbalanced the inconvenience of -going without his supper and curtailing his night’s rest. - -Consequently, when Dick and the young actor left the place half an hour -later, the men were all busy setting up the bills, which would be ready -for the presses in very short order. - -The two stopped at a near-by restaurant and ordered a good supply of -sandwiches and coffee sent up to the printers, and then hustled off to -find Lawford, the billposter. - -“By Jove, old fellow!” Demarest said, as they turned into Chapel Street -again and walked swiftly past the green. “You certainly did that trick -to perfection. I shall be your debtor all my life for having saved the -situation.” - -“We’re not out of the wood yet, by a long shot,” Merriwell returned. “I -have a notion that this Lawford will be more of a proposition to bring -around. By this time he must have the bills of the Arcadian play, and -your friend Bryton has learned about your leasing the Concert Hall. He’s -probably paid Lawford well for running his bills in ahead of yours.” - -“I’m afraid so,” Demarest agreed. “But it’s the limit, when I made the -bargain with him first.” - -“Still, Lawford gets all of his business from the trust, and he can’t -afford to have them down on him,” Dick said. “However, I think we can -manage it some way.” - -Reaching the billposter’s place of business, they found that the -proprietor had gone, leaving one of his men to shut up the place. - -“You don’t know where he can be found, then?” Dick questioned. - -The fellow shook his head. - -“He didn’t say. Likely he’s home, though.” - -“Where does he live?” Merriwell asked. - -“Down to West Haven.” - -Dick considered a moment. That was a good ways off, and it was extremely -questionable whether the results of a trip down there would repay the -effort. He had a pretty accurate notion that the billposter had been -primed by Ralph Bryton. As he hesitated, he looked swiftly about the -office, and his eyes lit up suddenly as they fell upon the great piles -of paper stacked in one corner. On the top sheet he caught a glimpse of -the words, “Fenwick, of Yale.” - -That was enough. Bryton had been here, and it would be quite useless to -approach Lawford. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - - WHILE OTHERS SLEPT. - - -After his discovery of the syndicate bills, Merriwell turned back and -bestowed a brief, but comprehensive glance at the man before him. He was -a young fellow of medium height, with a rather pleasant face and -fiery-red hair. He was roughly dressed and his faded overalls were -smeared with paste. Dick decided that he was one of the laborers who did -the actual work of billposting. He seemed like a pretty good sort, and -the Yale man seldom went wrong in sizing up a man. Still he hesitated, -wondering whether he had better put into execution the plan which was in -his mind. - -At last he determined to risk it. He could think of no other way, and -the bills must be on the boards before daylight. - -“Do you want to earn ten dollars?” he asked presently. - -The fellow grinned all over his freckled face. - -“That’s me, guv’ner,” he replied promptly. “I sure do.” - -“Would you be willing to stay up all night to do it?” Merriwell went on. - -“Sure, Mike!” - -The Yale man’s eyes wandered to the big buckets of paste which ranged -along the wall. - -“How long would it take you to mix up a lot of paste like that?” he -inquired. - -The billposter looked puzzled. - -“About an hour or so,” he returned. “What yer after?” - -Dick smiled. - -“I want about that much ready at twelve o’clock sharp,” he returned. “I -also want three or four big brushes that you put it on with. Where do -you suppose I could get those?” - -The fellow waved his hand to where a lot of them hung in rows against -the wall. - -“What’s the matter with them?” he inquired. “The old man’ll never miss -’em if you get ’em back by six o’clock. He’s got a big job on for -to-morrer, an’ he’s going to start at six.” - -“I don’t want to use his brushes,” Dick said quickly. “Isn’t there some -place around town where I could buy some?” - -The billposter shook his head. - -“Not as I knows of,” he answered. “Them brushes is made special.” - -Merriwell hesitated for a moment. Then he shrugged his shoulders. - -“All right,” he said, “we’ll use those, then. I can pay Lawford well for -the use of them after the business is over. Got that straight, now? Have -the paste and brushes ready for me at midnight. We’d better take a -couple of those small ladders, too. And you are to stay here till we -bring the things back. See?” - -The fellow nodded. - -“Yep. But, say, guv’ner, this here ain’t goin’ to do me no harm with the -boss, is it?” - -“Not unless you tell him yourself about it,” the Yale man answered. “I -promise you no one will ever get it from me, but I’ll be frank with -you——” - -He paused, and looked inquiringly at the fellow. - -“Brown’s me name,” the latter informed him. “Bill Brown.” - -“Well, Bill,” Dick continued, “I may as well tell you that if Lawford -ever found out that you had made paste for me, and loaned me his -brushes, he would probably fire you on the spot. But, as I say, I don’t -see how he’s going to find it out. I’ll leave the money for the brushes, -and all the rest, in his desk, and he’ll have no way of knowing where it -came from.” - -Brown hesitated, apparently turning the matter over in his mind. -Presently he looked up. - -“Make it fifteen, and I’m your man,” he said. - -Dick smiled. - -“I’ll go you one better. It’s worth twenty to me, and here’s half of it -now.” - -He handed the fellow a ten-dollar bill. - -“T’anks, guv’ner,” Brown said fervently. “You’re a sure-enough gent. -I’ll have the stuff ready fur you at eleven. Might a bloke ask what -you’re going to do with it?” - -“I reckon I’d better not tell you, Bill,” Merriwell smiled. “Then you -won’t be forced to hide anything more than necessary.” - -As soon as they were out of the building, Demarest gave vent to his -enthusiasm. - -“By Jove, Merriwell!” he exclaimed admiringly. “You certainly have got a -great head. You remind me of a general laying out the details of a -campaign. What’s the next step?” - -Dick chuckled. - -“Get enough of the fellows to put up the bills,” he explained. - -Demarest roared with laughter. - -“Great,” he gasped; “simply great! That’s a master stroke, getting Yale -students to turn billposters! But, say, will they do it, do you think?” - -“Do it!” Dick echoed. “They’ll fairly fall over themselves to get the -chance. Perhaps you Cambridge boys were too staid for this sort of -diversion, but I don’t think I shall have any difficulty persuading some -of my friends, especially when it’s in such a righteous cause.” - -It took but a short time to reach the campus, and Dick led the way up -the stairs of Durfee, taking the steps three at a time, while Demarest -followed him more slowly. Bursting into his room, he found quite a crowd -of fellows there, who at once set up a shout at the sight of him. - -“By thunder!” Brad Buckhart, his roommate, exclaimed. “It’s about time -you showed up, you old maverick. Had us worrying our heads clean off -wondering whether Harvard had roped you.” - -“Yes,” put in Eric Fitzgerald. “We were just about to organize a posse -to hunt you up. Where’ve you——” - -He broke off abruptly, his eyes fastened with a look of horror on the -entering Demarest, while he threw out both hands as if to ward off -something unspeakably awful. - -“Take him away!” he gasped, rolling his eyes ceilingward. “This is -dreadful! I haven’t had a drink in weeks, and yet I see two Merriwells. -It’s worse than snakes! For heaven sakes, somebody take one of ’em -away!” - -Exclamations of astonishment arose from the other fellows at the sight -of the amazing resemblance between the two men. - -“Stop your nonsense, Fitz!” Dick admonished. “Fellows, this is my -friend, Austin Demarest, who is going to bring out a corking Yale play -here next Thursday.” - -“What’s the relation, pard?” Buckhart grinned, as he shook hands with -the actor. “You sure had me guessing for a minute.” - -“Me, too,” put in Rudolph Rose. “It’s the greatest thing I ever saw.” - -“None whatever,” Dick explained. “I met Mr. Demarest for the first time -this morning, but I can assure you he’s the goods, all right.” - -Fitzgerald withdrew his gaze from the ceiling, with a profound sigh of -relief. - -“Delighted to meet you,” he said fervently, as he clasped Demarest’s -hand. “For a moment I had a horrid thought—— However, we won’t dwell on -that. Jove! I can’t get used to the two of you yet.” - -After everybody had met the stranger, and the crowd settled down to -comparative quiet, Dick took the floor. - -“We’ve got a ticklish job on hand to-night, boys,” he said earnestly, -“and I want your help. Demarest has a dandy play, which he has got to -bring out in New Haven. He’s up against the trust, and they won’t let -him have a decent theatre, so he’s taken the old Concert Hall. We -thought everything was settled all right this afternoon, but now it -appears that the trust has a play as nearly like Demarest’s as possible, -even to the name, which they are going to shove into the Arcadian on -Friday. It’s a put-up job, you see, to give him a frost. They’ve hired -Lawford to cover the boards with their bills to-morrow morning, though -Demarest had a previous understanding with the fellow that his paper -would go up as soon as it was printed. We’ve persuaded the printers to -work overtime, and the bills will be ready at midnight. Now, what I want -to do is to get them on the boards before daylight. Also every dead wall -we can get the privilege on. Catch on?” - -“You bet!” exclaimed Fitz joyfully. “You want us to turn billposters.” - -“Exactly,” Dick nodded. “How about it?” - -“Of course we will!” - -“Great!” - -“Gee! What a circus that will be!” - -“Bring on your bills, pard, and we’ll get ’em up or perish in the -attempt.” - -The assent was perfectly unanimous. Every one seemed to think it a great -lark, and was eager for the fun to commence. But there was still two -hours before the bills would be ready, so Dick took the opportunity of -giving the boys a more comprehensive sketch of what Demarest was up -against, and the troubles he had had to get a hearing for the play. - -The fellows were all much interested, and then and there they resolved -themselves into an informal committee of six to spread the news -throughout the university, and collect as large an audience as possible -for Thursday night. - -About eleven o’clock they all sallied forth in high spirits, and made at -once for the printing establishment. Here they found that the presses -were all running full blast, and the bills close to completion. The -foreman assured Dick that the last one would be run off in about half an -hour, so the latter dispatched Buckhart to see if he couldn’t find some -sort of a vehicle in which they could transport the paper. That was the -one point on which he had slipped up. He had expected that they would be -able to carry the bills, but a sight of the volume already printed -showed him at once that this was impossible. - -While Buckhart was gone, Merriwell and Demarest paid all the men off, -and thanked them heartily for the help they had given, besides -presenting each of them with two tickets for the show. - -Precisely at half-past eleven the last bill was run off, the great -presses stopped, and the printers grabbed up coats and hats, and hurried -out of the place. The foreman remained a few minutes to show Dick which -were the large bills to be posted up, and which the smaller posters to -attach to the colored lithographs for the store windows, which they -proposed distributing the moment the shops opened in the morning. They -were really counting more on these than the announcements on the boards, -for they felt pretty certain that the latter would not remain uncovered -long, once Lawford got started with his work for the trust in the -morning. They would be up long enough, however, to attract considerable -attention, and Dick had a little scheme by which he hoped to circumvent -Lawford if the latter did cover them. - -Presently Brad appeared, with the announcement that he had a cab below, -and all hands turned to to carry the bills downstairs. In the street -outside they found a rather dilapidated specimen of four-wheeler, which -the Texan had picked up at the station, into which they piled the paper -until there was room for nothing else. - -The driver seemed to take it as some college prank, and, assured of his -money, which he had obtained in advance, looked upon them with a -tolerant eye. - -At the billposter’s, they found Brown on the alert, and the paste and -brushes ready for them. His eyes bulged a little when he saw the cab -full of paper, but he asked no questions. He rather hoped that the -night’s work would hit his boss hard, for Lawford was a hard man to work -for, and was cordially hated by the fellows under him. - -Several buckets of the paste, the brushes, and two ladders were wedged -into the cab somehow, and then the fun commenced. - -Merriwell’s plan of campaign was masterly. He avoided carefully the -central part of the town, in which the cops were apt to be more or less -wide awake, and proceeded at once to the outskirts, where they could -work undisturbed. - -Quietly and swiftly, board after board was covered with the flaring -announcements. Many of them were slapped on crooked, and several times -they got the different sections misplaced, so that the bottom part came -first, but Demarest was rather pleased at that than otherwise. He -thought it would attract more attention than if they had been put on -with the customary skill and regularity. - -The fellows were having the time of their lives. Before long they were -smeared with paste from head to foot, but that did not matter. They -slathered the bills on as if their lives depended on their speed, and -the little spice of risk—for the cops were pretty sure to question such -proceedings if they got onto the game—only added to the enjoyment. - -Working with the utmost method, they slowly circled the town, -approaching nearer and nearer to the central zone of danger. Several -times they had narrow escapes, but they always managed to pull out -before the cops actually caught them, though more than once they were -obliged to run, leaving only the top section of the bill affixed to the -board. It is safe to say, however, that those incomplete sections, -breaking off abruptly in the middle of the announcement, attracted more -attention from the passers-by in the morning, and stimulated their -curiosity to a much greater extent than anything else. - -At last they reached Chapel Street, just opposite the campus, and here -Fitz conceived the audacious scheme of putting one of their bills on the -board in front of the Arcadian Theatre. This was carrying the war into -the enemy’s camp with a vengeance, but Dick at once perceived the -advertising value of such a thing, and they proceeded to plan it with -care. - -An officer’s beat took in Chapel Street between York and Orange, a -matter of five blocks. Merriwell stationed the cab well around the -corner on High Street, and then carried the paste and one of the bills -into a doorway nearer the corner. There they thoroughly pasted the first -part of the bill, while Buckhart, keeping watch at the corner, gave the -word when the cop was well away from the front of the theatre. - -As soon as the coast was clear, Dick and Fitz dashed out, carrying the -pasted sheet between them, while Rudolph Rose came along with the brush. -A few deft dabs with the latter served to fix the paper to the board, -and then they darted into concealment again, to await another round on -the part of the officer. - -He passed the billboard the first time without noticing the change, but -on his return trip, he seemed to be attracted by the unfinished look of -the thing. - -“Begorrah!” the listening fellows heard him mutter. “It’s careless -Johnny Lawford’s min is gettin’ to be. Runnin’ off an’ l’avin’ the board -half done. ‘Jarvis of Yale.’ A foine show’, I doubt not.” - -The moment his back was turned, the next sheet was added to the board, -and the announcement completed. The fellows did not stay to hear the -officer’s comments on his return trip. But they laughed gleefully as -they pictured his astonishment when he saw, the bill of a Concert Hall -production before the Arcadian Theatre. - -It was nearly five o’clock when the empty pails and brushes were -returned to the billposter’s establishment. Bill Brown promptly hung the -latter in their place, washed out the pails, and put them away. Then, -locking the door, he departed with a hearty good night, one hand -clutching two crisp ten-dollar notes, thrust deep in his trousers -pocket. - -The Yale men accompanied Demarest to the hotel, and helped him carry in -what remained of the bills. Then they left him, and made their way to -their various quarters in high glee at the success of the night’s work. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XIX - - THE RAGE OF RALPH BRYTON. - - -A good many people in New Haven were surprised next morning when they -read the bills announcing the production of an apparently decent play at -the old Concert Hall. Some of the older inhabitants harked back to the -good old days, when that was the only theatre in town, and were thereby -moved to read the bill to the very end, thus becoming interested in the -contest between the young actor-manager and the trust, which was exactly -what Demarest wanted. - -John Lawford, the billposter, was more than surprised. He was puzzled, -perplexed, and furiously angry. He saw at once that Demarest had stolen -a march on him, and he did his best to nullify the advantage gained, by -covering the boards as swiftly as possible with the announcements of the -Arcadian production. Although he had made a verbal agreement with the -young actor to give his paper space, he was able to slide out of it -because there had been no written contract, and he dared not disobey the -emphatic commands of Ralph Bryton, on whom his bread and butter -depended. - -But all this took time. It was nearly noon before he had obliterated the -greater part of the work of the Yale students last night, and a good -many people had seen the original bills, and read them through. Their -interest was only stimulated when they noticed them, one by one, being -covered by the announcements of the trust. It seemed to bear out -Demarest’s statement that he was being hounded by the syndicate men, and -a good many citizens decided on the spot to attend the performance of -“Jarvis of Yale,” and see what it was like. - -While Lawford was working so hard, Austin Demarest was putting in some -equally effective licks. Bright and early he started out with two boys -and a quantity of lithographing, his regular paper, and in a very short -time had obtained points of vantage in all the important shop windows, -for which he paid on the spot, and about eleven he returned to the hotel -empty-handed, but with a feeling of intense satisfaction at having -circumvented Ralph Bryton effectually. - -He had scarcely entered the lobby before his eyes fell upon that -gentleman himself, and he saw at once that the representative of the -trust was not in the best sort of humor. He was striding up and down the -floor, pulling his heavy mustache, and scowling fiercely under beetling -brows. - -He was a man of about forty, heavily built, and a little inclined toward -corpulency. His features were good, but his expression was domineering, -as if he were accustomed to have his own way, and would fly into a -passion when thwarted. - -He had slept late that morning, secure in the consciousness that he had -done a good day’s work, and effectually prevented the man he hated from -having any sort of a success in New Haven, even if he once secured a -foothold. - -After a leisurely breakfast, he took a stroll down the street, and his -astonishment and anger can better be imagined than described when his -eyes fell upon the announcement which graced the board in front of the -Arcadian Theatre. Lawford had not yet reached that part of the city. - -Bryton stormed and raged, and even went so far as to try and tear the -paper off, but the paste had been well mixed, and his efforts were in -vain. - -Fairly foaming at the mouth, he dashed back to the hotel, and tried to -get Lawford on the telephone, but no one answered him. He had just come -away from the booth after a second attempt when his eyes fell upon the -smiling face of Austin Demarest, and he promptly crossed the lobby, and -confronted the young actor. - -“You young blackguard!” he frothed. “How dare you put up posters in -front of my theatre? How dare you use any of the boards which I control -for your rotten paper?” - -Demarest’s eyes narrowed. - -“Just keep a civil tongue in your mouth, Bryton,” he said coldly. “I -suppose it is rather difficult for you to behave like a gentleman, but a -little more of such talk as that, and I’ll have to hand you something.” - -The older man glared at his antagonist, and his face grew purple, but he -managed to keep a grip on his temper, for he realized that his anger had -carried him farther than he had meant. - -“You’ve no right to use the boards in this city, which I control,” he -said, in a calmer tone. - -“I wasn’t aware that you controlled any of them,” Demarest returned -coolly. “I labored under the impression that they were the property of -John Lawford, with whom I made arrangements early yesterday afternoon to -post my paper.” - -Bryton gasped. - -“But I told him not——” he began, and then stopped abruptly. - -“Exactly,” put in the actor. “You ordered him to throw me down after he -had explicitly agreed to do my work. That’s like you, Bryton. You can’t -blame me for taking things into my own hands.” - -Bryton’s eyes flashed angrily. - -“Much good it will do you!” he snapped. “By noon your stuff will be -covered.” - -“Just the same, my purpose will have been accomplished,” Demarest smiled -tauntingly. “People will have all morning to see the announcements, and -then they will wonder why your paper is plastered over them. I shall -take care that they find out. I have a friend or two on the New Haven -press. You slipped up on the shop windows, didn’t you?” - -His voice held a note of malicious satisfaction. The older man gave a -sudden start. - -“Lawford was to go around after——” - -“Too late,” the actor returned quickly. “I have the best locations -cinched. They’re paid for, and an agreement signed. If any of them try -to take out my lithographs, or cover them up with yours, I’ll sue for -breach of contract.” - -If looks could kill, Demarest would have been slain on the spot by the -ferocious glare from the older man’s eyes. Bryton knew that he had -suffered a serious check, for the window advertising had always been -considered of equal or greater importance than the billboards. - -He realized, however, that he could accomplish nothing by going off his -head, so he made a great effort, and managed to get control of his -temper. - -“After all, I don’t know why I’m going to all this trouble,” he said -sarcastically. “You’re a fool if you think anybody will go to the -Concert Hall. Why, the place is rotten!” - -“That’s my business,” Demarest retorted. “I rather think if you drop in -to the opening Thursday night you’ll be surprised. But I really must -tear myself away. This has been a great pleasure, and I trust I shall -see you again.” - -Without waiting for an answer, he turned on his heel, and started toward -the door. The next minute he stopped and looked back. - -“Can’t I give you a couple of seats for Thursday?” he smiled. “I should -be delighted to have your critical opinion of the performance.” - -“Bah!” snarled Bryton, his face purpling dangerously. - -The young actor shrugged his shoulders. - -“Too bad you’re feeling that way this morning,” he said airily. “You -really ought to take something—a bromo seltzer might do.” - -Bryton gazed loweringly after the graceful figure of the young man as he -disappeared through the door. - -“I’ll get you yet, my young cockerel!” he muttered fiercely. “You think -you’ve got the best of Ralph Bryton, but you’re mistaken. You won’t crow -so loud before I’m through with you.” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XX - - THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM. - - -Happily his work was so arranged that morning that Dick Merriwell was -through for the day at eleven o’clock. Truth to tell, he might just as -well have absented himself altogether for all the good the lectures did -him, for his mind was so full of the brave struggle his new friend was -making for success that he gave little thought to anything else. - -Chancing upon G. Grossman, editor in chief of the _Comet_, he took the -opportunity of giving him a full account of Demarest, his play, and the -trouble he was having to get a hearing. Grossman was much interested, -and promised to write the matter up for the paper, which was exactly -what Dick wanted. - -The moment he escaped from the Chemical Lab, he made his way as quickly -as he could to the Concert Hall, which he found a scene of the utmost -bustle and confusion. - -An army of scrubwomen were busy in the auditorium and balcony; painters -were at work on the boxes, and in various other parts of the house, -while from the flies came the sound of sawing and hammering. - -Demarest seemed to be everywhere at once, directing, advising, joking -with the workmen, and generally hustling things along. His eyes -brightened as he saw Dick. - -“The top of the morning to you, Richard!” he cried from the stage. -“You’re a sight for sore eyes. Come up and hear the news.” - -Vaulting over the orchestra space, the Yale man leaped lightly to the -stage, and joined his friend. - -Demarest narrated with gusto his success in placing the lithographs, and -then went on to tell about the interview with Bryton. - -“It was a bitter pill for him to swallow,” he concluded. “He looked as -if he could have knifed me with all the pleasure in the world. He’s -always hated me like poison, you know, ever since I came to Buffer and -Lane.” - -“What’s he got against you?” Merriwell asked curiously. - -“Search me,” Demarest returned. “The only reason I can think of is that -I played opposite to Marion Gray all last season. He’s stuck on her, you -know, and I suppose he got jealous seeing me make love to her every -night, and twice on Saturday. They said he nearly went off his head when -she refused to sign with them this season, but came to me instead. -Marion’s a jolly good sort, and one of the best leading women in the -country. I was mighty lucky to get her. She’ll be here with all the rest -of the company this afternoon.” - -Dick was about to inquire further about Bryton, when the drays appeared -at the stage entrance with the scenery, which had, up to this time, been -left in the cars on a siding. - -“I couldn’t rest till I got them safely here,” the actor explained, as -he hurried over to direct the unloading. “It would be just like Bryton -to hire somebody to slash them up, and ruin them. He’d do anything to -prevent this performance, but I think we have him in a hole. I’ve got -the stuff here before he’s had time to think.” - -The arrival of the sets added considerably to the general confusion, but -nothing could daunt Demarest. In spite of the fact that he had had -practically no sleep the night before, he was in the highest of spirits -over his success, for which he gave Merriwell every credit, and all -afternoon he did not stir from the theatre, with the result that a -tremendous amount of work was done before the workmen left the place. -The young actor was confident that another two days would see a -remarkable transformation in the dingy edifice. - -On account of football practice, Dick could not be with him after three -o’clock, but he stopped at the theatre on his way back from the field, -and found Demarest on the point of leaving. - -“Jump in, and I’ll take you back to the hotel,” he said, without leaving -his seat at the wheel of his car. “How have things gone?” - -“Splendidly!” Demarest exclaimed enthusiastically, as he stepped into -the tonneau. “Another two days will see everything in first-class shape. -The men have caught on to what I want, and are going at it with a will, -for they understand the need for haste. I shan’t have to spend so much -of my time looking after them to-morrow.” - -“Company come yet?” Dick inquired. - -“Yes; they arrived at four-fifty,” the actor returned. “Haven’t seen -them yet, but they phoned me from the hotel. Yes, thanks to you, I think -we’re going to pull through in fine shape.” - -The car drew up before the New Haven House, and the actor leaped out. - -“Come in, won’t you?” he urged. “I’d like to have you meet the people. -They’re a nice lot.” - -“Guess I’d better wait until to-morrow,” Merriwell said. “We’ve got a -football meeting on hand right after supper, and I’ll have to hustle to -get through in time. I wish you’d let me have that manuscript of the -play you spoke about, though. I want to read it to-night, if I can -manage to stay awake.” - -“Of course!” Demarest exclaimed. “I’d forgotten all about it. Just wait -a second while I get it.” - -He disappeared into the hotel, returning five minutes later with a -square, flat parcel, which he handed to Dick. - -“There. Don’t hesitate to blue pencil it wherever you find any faults,” -he said. “We’ll have the dress rehearsal Thursday morning, and can -introduce any changes then. We’ve rehearsed so much that the people are -all letter-perfect, and there isn’t any need for holding one until -Thursday to give them an idea of this stage. Well, good night. If you -feel as weary as I do, you’ll sleep like the dead. See you to-morrow.” - -Merriwell and Buckhart returned his greeting, and he stood for a moment -on the sidewalk, while the car slid on down the street. Dick had a last, -swift glimpse of his handsome, happy face, with the sensitive lips -curved in a smile of perfect friendliness, and then the car rounded a -corner, and the picture vanished. - -If the Yale man could have had any conception of the extraordinary -events which were to take place before he set eyes on Austin Demarest -again, he would have been amazed beyond measure. - -Luckily, however, he was troubled with no premonitions of evil. He ate -his usual hearty supper with his customary appetite, took part in the -football meeting afterward, and helped decide several important points -relative to the great Yale-Harvard game, which was coming off the -following week. Then he went promptly back to his rooms, and, getting -out the manuscript of “Jarvis of Yale,” settled himself by the table, -and commenced to read. - -Here Buckhart found him an hour later, oblivious to everything but the -typewritten sheets before him. His lips were parted, his eyes bright, -and a faint flush of excitement was on his cheeks. - -The Texan paused in astonishment. - -“By the great horn spoon!” he ejaculated. “What in thunder is the matter -with you, pard?” - -“Don’t bother me!” muttered Dick, without raising his eyes. “I’m almost -through.” - -“Humph!” grunted Buckhart, dropping into a chair. - -Ten minutes later his roommate looked up, with a sigh. - -“That’s a dandy play!” he exclaimed, with satisfaction. “A perfect -corker! If that don’t go with the people hereabouts, it’ll be because -they’re a lot of dead ones. The part of _Lance Jarvis_ is a peach, but I -don’t see where I come in.” - -“Huh?” questioned the Westerner. - -“Oh, nothing,” Dick said hastily. - -He did not want even Brad to know that Demarest had taken him as a model -for the hero of the play. Excepting in a few minor points, he could see -no resemblance whatever to himself. The clever young actor had made -_Jarvis_ a wonderfully attractive character, fascinating, wholly -sympathetic, and lovable. It was what actors term a “fat part,” and, -strangely enough, Demarest had succeeded in hitting Merriwell off to a -T, in spite of the fact that he had never actually met the Yale man. But -Dick, keen as he was in sizing up the character of another man, would -never see the resemblance in a hundred years. He was too modest. It -seemed to him the height of conceit to imagine for a moment that he was -anything like this fellow in the play, who had interested and fascinated -him. Consequently he evaded Brad’s question. - -“So you think it will go, do you?” the Texan inquired presently. - -“I certainly do,” Merriwell answered. “You want to get all the fellows -you can to see it. We must fill the house full for Demarest.” - -Buckhart looked a little doubtful. - -“It’s got to be pretty darned good, you know, pard,” he said slowly, -“for the boys to keep from guying. You know how many performances have -been broken up that way.” - -Dick stood up, and laid the manuscript on the table. - -“I know,” he agreed; “but you do your best to fill the theatre, and I’ll -guarantee they won’t waste much time guying. They’ll be too much -interested in the play.” - -He yawned. Now that the tension was over, he felt desperately sleepy. - -“I’m going to bed,” he announced. “I’d have to prop my eyelids up to -keep them open five minutes longer.” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XXI - - MARION GRAY PLAYS FAIR. - - -Marion Gray was a very charming young woman. Slight, and rather tiny, -she had a piquant face which was fascinating. Taken separately, scarcely -one of her features would be found quite perfect, but one never -scrutinized Marion Gray’s face that way. The ensemble disarmed -criticism. - -Some one had once said that had she been positively ugly she would still -have remained none the less attractive; for she had that wonderful, -illusive quality of magnetism, without which there is no real success on -the stage. - -And, more than that, she had brains, and knew how to use them. In the -comparative short space of three years she had made a place for herself, -alone and unaided, in the hearts of the theatre-going public of New -York, which is about as difficult as a passage through the eye of a -needle by the proverbial camel. - -In three years she had acquired a personal following, and a large one, -at that. When Buffer and Lane had threatened her with their displeasure -if she persisted in going with Austin Demarest, she had laughed at them. -She knew, and so did they, that such threats amounted to nothing. The -moment she was at leisure—and probably long before—they would be after -her on bended knee, begging, beseeching, offering a fabulous salary, to -secure the actress for which New York was clamoring. - -But she had reasons of her own for wishing to play for the talented -young actor-manager. Perhaps the reasons were no longer her own. During -the long rehearsals of “Jarvis of Yale,” it had been almost impossible -to hide from the penetrating eyes of the other members in the cast the -interest she felt in the person of the author and star. They had long -ago sized up the situation, and confided to each other that Marion was -daffier than ever about “Demmy.” They had all seen it but the one she -cared more for than any one else in the world. - -This morning, as she sat alone at breakfast in the dining room of the -New Haven House, she sighed a little as she thought of it. He was very -blind. They had always been good pals. Once she thought that his feeling -for her was something more than that, but now she was not sure. - -They had been separated all summer. He was writing his play, and she -resting in the mountains. Since their return to the city he had been so -full of his wonderful new venture that he seemed scarcely to have time -to eat and sleep. - -All at once she glanced toward the door, and her eyes brightened. He had -entered the room, and was striding toward her table. In one hand he held -an open telegram. His face was full of perplexity and annoyance. - -“I can’t understand it!” he exclaimed, dropping down opposite her. -“Hemingway wants me to come to town at once. Has something important to -talk over. I don’t dare put him off, for all our chances of getting a -New York date depend on him, and yet it’s deucedly inconvenient with so -much here to look after.” - -Marion Gray hesitated an instant. - -“How very provoking,” she agreed presently. “But, of course, you must -go. It would never do to offend Hemingway, and you know how erratic he -is sometimes. Is there anything here to do except keep an eye on the -theatre?” - -“Not much,” Demarest returned. “They have a good start there, and know -what to do next, but I had expected to run over two or three times to be -sure they were getting things straight.” - -“Why don’t you ask that nice Mr. Merriwell you were telling me about to -look after things for you?” she suggested. - -Demarest’s face brightened. - -“That’s a good idea,” he returned quickly, “only it seems cheeky. -However, I know he’ll do it if he can, and it’s the only way out. I’ll -phone him.” - -He pushed back his chair, and stood up. - -“Well, I’ll be off. Just about time to make the train. Don’t worry if -I’m not back to-night. There might be something to detain me, but I’ll -make the first train out in the morning at the latest. Dress rehearsal -at eleven, you know. Look after that for me, will you? And be sure -everybody understands. By-by.” - -She nodded gayly to him, but her face sobered as she went on with her -breakfast. The success of this venture meant almost as much to her as it -did to Demarest, and she was wrapped up in it. - -Presently she finished, and arose from the table. She meant to go for a -little stroll, and for that reason she wore her hat, and carried a long -fur coat on her arm. One of the bell boys held this while she slipped -into it, and then she turned toward the door, drawing on her gloves as -she made her way slowly toward it. - -All at once she gave a quick little gasp, as her eyes fell upon a man -standing by the desk, and turned her head swiftly the other way. But she -was too late. The next instant Ralph Bryton had spied her, and stepped -to her side. - -“Good morning, my dear,” he said, with an attempt at geniality. “I saw -by the register that you had arrived last night.” - -The girl did not glance at him, but went steadily on her way. - -“Good morning, Mr. Bryton,” she returned frigidly. - -There was a disagreeable note in the man’s laugh. - -“How very formal we are,” he said sarcastically. “I can remember the -time, not so very long ago, when it was Ralph.” - -“You know perfectly well that was on your father’s account,” she -retorted. “Brought up as I was in his house, I could scarcely have -called you anything else while he was alive. Now I can follow my own -inclinations.” - -The man’s face darkened. They had reached the door, and, as she was -about to pass out, he put out one hand swiftly, and held the knob. - -“One moment,” he said shortly. “I must have a few minutes’ talk with you -before you go out. Oh, it’s about business,” he went on bitterly, as a -repugnance flashed across her face. “I want to talk to you about -Demarest and this fool play of his.” - -She glanced at him. - -“What is it you wish to say?” she inquired briefly. - -Bryton indicated with his hand a couple of chairs in a corner near by, -and, after a moment’s hesitation, she took one of them. - -“You’ve got to pull out of this company of his at once,” he said, in a -hard voice, as he dropped down beside her. - -Marion Gray’s eyes widened, and a little color crept into her face. - -“You’re a cool proposition,” she remarked, “to tell me what I must, or -must not, do. Do you imagine for an instant that I would break a -contract, and desert a man the very day before the opening? I thought -you knew that I always played fair.” - -“Yah!” snarled Bryton. “You—play fair! A lot you do! Where’s your -gratitude? Tell me that! You owe everything you’ve got—the very clothes -on your back—to my father. Didn’t he take you in when you were starving, -and treat you like a daughter? Didn’t he give you his name, which wasn’t -good enough for you when you took to the stage? Didn’t he leave you a -pile of money, which kept you till you got a job with Rosenbaum? That -was my money! It should have come to me! You practically robbed me of -it. And now you stick by Demarest, who doesn’t care a hang about you, -and let me go——” - -“Stop!” - -The girl’s face was pale, but her eyes flashed angrily. - -“You’ve said quite enough, Ralph Bryton,” she went on, in a cold, -cutting voice, “to show me what sort of a man you really are, even if I -hadn’t a pretty good notion of it before. A good deal of what you have -said is true, but no one but a contemptible hound would have said it in -the way you did. Your father did adopt me, and as long as he lived I -loved him. He was more of a man than you’ll ever be. The money he left -me wasn’t much, but it enabled me to live until I found something to do. -The reason I didn’t take your father’s name was because it was yours, -too.” - -Bryton winced at the contempt in her voice. She caught her breath, and -went on swiftly: - -“Now, not content with pestering me to marry you, when you know I loathe -the very sight of you, you want me to do a dishonorable thing which -would make me hate myself all my life long. But I won’t do it! You knew -that long ago, didn’t you? I’d play my part to-morrow night if I was -dying, and I mean to play it for all that is in me. If ‘Jarvis of Yale’ -isn’t a success, it won’t be because Marion Gray hasn’t done her best to -make it so.” - -With the last word, she sprang swiftly to her feet, and, before the -angry man realized what had happened, she reached the door and -disappeared. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XXII - - OUT OF A CLEAR SKY. - - -Dick Merriwell was rather surprised to get a note from Demarest—the -latter had not been able to reach him on the telephone—saying that he -had been unexpectedly called to New York for the day, and asking Dick if -he would not keep an eye on the workmen at the theatre that afternoon, -if possible. - -This Merriwell was, of course, very ready to do. He made three trips -down there before going to the field, and found matters progressing as -well as could be expected. - -He was amused, and, for an instant, surprised, at being mistaken for -Demarest, but he did not disabuse the men of their error. It would be -just as well for them to think that he was the actor. They would perhaps -work the better while he was looking on. Knowing the work which had to -be done, he was able to straighten out several doubtful matters, and -when he stopped again on his way home from practice, he was more than -pleased at the strides they had made during his absence. The place was -neat as a pin, and only a few more hours’ work was necessary to finish -everything up. - -He rather expected that Demarest would call him up that evening, but no -message came. Finally, about half-past eight, he got the hotel on the -wire, and found that the actor had not returned. - -“He’ll probably get the early train in the morning,” he said to himself. -“I’ll hear from him then.” - -Having no lecture until ten o’clock, he spent the time getting up back -work. He was just slipping into his coat to leave the room when the -telephone bell rang insistently, and, stepping over to the instrument, -he took down the receiver. - -“Is this Mr. Merriwell?” came in a woman’s voice. - -“Yes.” - -“This is Miss Gray—Miss Marion Gray. I’m dreadfully worried about Mr. -Demarest. Two trains are in, and he hasn’t appeared. The rehearsal is -set for eleven, and I don’t know what to do. I phoned Hemingway’s -office, and they said he hadn’t been there since last night, late. Could -you—would you come over to the hotel for a few minutes? You see, there’s -no one I can get to advise me what to do, and I knew you were Mr. -Demarest’s friend, so I thought——” - -The sweet voice trailed off in a questioning silence. - -“Certainly, I’ll come, Miss Gray,” Merriwell answered promptly. “Be over -in three minutes.” - -Hanging up the receiver, he took up his hat and left the rooms. - -“I don’t understand it,” he murmured, as he ran downstairs. “He should -have been here two hours ago. Great Scott. I hope nothing’s happened to -him. If he didn’t show up in time for the performance, everything would -be ruined. But he must show up—he will!” - -Flinging open the outer door, he almost fell over a telegraph boy. His -heart gave a sudden throb of fear. - -“Merriwell live here?” inquired the boy. - -“Yes,” Dick said quickly. “That’s my name. Give it to me.” - -He snatched the ominous yellow missive from the other’s hand, and tore -it open in breathless haste. The boy saw his face pale suddenly, and -heard him draw his breath swiftly as his eyes flew rapidly over the -crowded lines on the single sheet. But experience had calloused him to -such sights as these, and, eager to be gone, he drawled out: - -“Any answer?” - -“No,” Dick said, in a strange voice; “none.” - -The boy departed, whistling carelessly, but Merriwell still stood on the -stone steps, gazing blankly at the paper in his hand. Presently he drew -one hand across his forehead in a bewildered manner. - -“I can’t!” he breathed. “I could never do it in this world! What is he -thinking of?” - -He turned mechanically and went back to his room. - -Dropping down in a chair, he spread the telegram out on his knee, and -read it aloud. - - “Arrested here on absurd charge. Cannot be tried until - to-morrow. Put-up job to hold me, and ruin performance. You must - take my part, and save play. Otherwise I shall be ruined. - _Jarvis_ is really you. If you can only learn the lines it will - be all right. Business will take care of itself. Do this as you - love me, Richard, and I shall be your debtor forever. Don’t tell - a soul where I am. I can’t afford to have my name smirched, even - by false charge. - - AUSTIN.” - -For a moment or two Dick sat looking at the paper blankly. Then he -suddenly crumpled it into a ball, and thrust it into his pocket. At -least, that was what he meant to do, but, instead of going into the -pocket, it slipped through the slit in his overcoat, and lodged in the -chair seat, close against one of the arms. - -The next moment Merriwell had sprung to his feet, and was striding back -and forth across the room. - -The prospect which had at first appalled him was gradually becoming more -reasonable, more possible, as he recovered from the suddenness of the -shock, and swiftly regained his poise and self-control. He had a -remarkably retentive memory, and felt that if he put his mind to it, -excluding every other thing, he might be able to get the part before -night, or possibly even in time for a hasty dress rehearsal that -afternoon. - -As for doing anything more than that, he would have to trust to luck. He -had no idea what Demarest’s conception was of the character of _Lance -Jarvis_. All he could do would be to forget that he was acting, and -simply be himself. It was the only way by which the young actor’s -reputation could be saved, and his success assured; for, if the -performance did not come off on Thursday, Dick had a feeling that Ralph -Bryton would see that it was indefinitely postponed. He had seen enough -of the man’s methods not to realize that no stone would be left unturned -to thwart Demarest. - -Presently he yanked off his overcoat, and tossed it on a chair. - -“I’ll do it!” he muttered. “I’ve got to do it! There’s no other way -out!” - -Then, springing to the telephone, he called up the New Haven House, and -asked for Miss Gray. In a moment he heard her voice at the other end of -the wire. - -“This is Mr. Merriwell, Miss Gray,” he said quickly. “I’ve heard from -Austin. He’s unavoidably detained, and cannot get here before two -o’clock. Can the dress rehearsal be postponed until then, do you think?” - -She gave a gasp of relief, which was almost a sob. - -“Yes, of course,” she said swiftly. “That will give us time enough to -get through before the evening performance. Oh, I’m so glad everything -is right with him! I was so afraid something had happened. You know, -Bryton would stop at nothing to prevent this opening.” - -“Yes, I understood that from Austin,” Merriwell returned quietly. “But I -don’t see what he can do now. You’ll have every one at the theatre at -two, will you?” - -“Surely. Thank you so much, Mr. Merriwell, and do forgive me for putting -you to so much trouble.” - -“It hasn’t been any trouble at all,” Dick assured her. “I was terribly -worried about Austin myself, but everything will be all right now. If -you don’t mind, I won’t come over just now. I have some rather important -work to do, but I’ll meet you later, I hope.” - -“Of course. You must come behind the scenes to-night, and meet the -company. Thank you again. Good-by.” - -As he hung up the receiver, a whimsical smile flashed into Merriwell’s -face. - -“Yes, I certainly expect to come behind the scenes, and meet the -company,” he murmured. “I’m glad she didn’t ask any more questions. As -it was, I escaped without telling an actual untruth. I suppose Demarest -is wise in not wanting any one to know. It would probably break them all -up; but I wonder if I can possibly keep up the deception. Gee! It makes -me cold all over to think about it! Just have to trust to luck, I -reckon. Now for it.” - -Snatching up the manuscript of the play, he dragged a chair close to the -window, and started to work. - -In something over an hour, he got up, and, dropping the play, began to -walk the floor, reeling off the part at lightning speed. When he came to -the end of the first act, he gave a sigh of relief. - -“One gone,” he muttered. “Pretty superficial, but it will have to do. I -must see that the prompter is on the job to-night.” - -When he next came to himself another act had been memorized, and it was -half-past twelve. He had expected Brad to come in and interrupt, but -happily the Texan did not appear. He must have gone directly to the -dining hall from his last recitation. - -By a quarter of two the last words had been committed, and Dick snatched -overcoat and hat, stuffed the manuscript into his pocket, and flew -downstairs. - -Not ten minutes later the door was flung open, and Brad Buckhart entered -hastily. - -“Not here!” he exclaimed, with a swift look about the room. “Where in -thunder is he? Cut everything this morning, without a word of -explanation! Didn’t even show up to dinner! It sure beats everything, -the bad ways he’s getting into!” - -He plumped down in the chair beside the table, his brows drawn down into -a scowl. A moment later he slid his hand down the arm of the chair, and -drew forth a crumpled wad of yellow paper. - -“Humph!” he grunted. “What’s this?” - -Smoothing it out, he saw that it was a telegram, and, scarcely realizing -what he was doing, his eyes took in the first line. After that nothing -could have prevented his reading it to the very end, so interested was -he. - -“Suffering catamounts!” he exclaimed. “If that don’t beat all! Arrested! -Wants Dick to take the part! Great tarantulas! That’s what the old -galoot’s been up to all morning—learning the stuff. It’s sure it!” - -For a moment he sat there in thoughtful silence. Then a slow smile broke -out all over his face, and the next moment he threw back his head, and -laughed till the tears came into his eyes. - -“By the great horn spoon!” he cried. “That’s the best thing I ever -heard. Think of old Dick going on the stage, and half of Yale College -looking on, and not knowing it’s him. Gee! If we don’t have a circus -to-night with Richard I’ll eat my hat!” - -He broke off, and glanced again at the telegram. - -“I can’t tell ’em, though, can I?” he muttered. “Dick never meant I -should see this. But you bet the Untamed Maverick of the Pecos will have -his share of joy out of it. You hear me talk!” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII - - THE CURTAIN RISES. - - -Dick slipped cautiously into the stage entrance of the Concert Hall, and -went directly to Demarest’s dressing room. No one must see him until he -was made up, or the fat would be all in the fire. - -Swiftly lighting the gas jets, he locked the door, and opened the -make-up box, which stood on a bare table underneath a large mirror. It -was not the first time he had disguised himself so that his best friend -did not know him, but he found that the very strength of the likeness -between Demarest and himself was more a hindrance than a help. - -His keen sense of observation, however, had taken in the several -important differences in their faces, and he proceeded to skillfully -make his own an exact duplicate of the actor’s. It was delicate work, -but he did it well; and, ten minutes later, after he had rearranged his -hair in the manner Demarest wore it, it would have taken an amazingly -keen eye to see that he was not the actor himself. He had scarcely put -down the brushes, when there came a light, quick knock at the door. - -Inwardly a little nervous, but to all appearances perfectly at ease, he -stepped across the room, turned the key, and flung the door open. Marion -Gray was standing on the threshold, her face worried and anxious, but, -as she saw him, her eyes brightened, and she gave a gasp of relief. - -“Oh, Austin, I’m so glad!” she cried. “What a fright you have given us! -I’ve been worried nearly to death for fear you wouldn’t get here in -time. What in the world kept you?” - -“I’m sorry, Marion,” Dick returned, “but it really couldn’t be helped. -There isn’t a question now about Hemingway giving us a show if we make -good here.” - -Putting all his powers of mimicry into play, Merriwell reproduced the -tones of Austin Demarest’s voice with an accuracy which surprised even -himself. The girl evidently had no suspicion of the substitution, for -she went on quickly: - -“Austin, I’m afraid of Bryton. I’m afraid he’ll try to prevent the -performance in some way. I saw him in the street outside just now, and -yesterday he did his best to persuade me to throw up my part.” - -“What a scoundrel he is!” Dick exclaimed. “But, of course, I have no -fear of his succeeding. You’d never throw me down that way.” - -Marion Gray caught her breath suddenly. Her eyes were full of tears, and -she was evidently in a very nervous condition. - -“I’m glad you realize that much,” she faltered. “I couldn’t do such a -thing as that, though sometimes it’s dreadfully hard——” - -She broke off abruptly, and Merriwell looked at her questioningly. - -“Hard?” he repeated. - -Her face was turned away from him. - -“Yes—hard to have you—make love—to me—on the stage,” she whispered -chokingly. - -Dick drew a quick breath. Great heavens! The girl was madly in love with -Demarest, and she was as much as telling him so. There was no mistaking -the tones of her voice. He had not thought of this complication, and for -a moment he did not know what to do or say. He had no idea what the -actor’s general attitude was toward this extremely attractive young -woman, and, even if he had, he could never bring himself to behave in a -sentimental manner toward the girl who was mistaking him for another -man. - -“There, my dear,” he ventured presently, in Demarest’s whimsical tones, -“you’re worried sick over this fellow Bryton. There’s nothing to be -afraid of. He can’t stop the performance now. Come, it’s time we started -the ball moving. The stage must be waiting for us.” - -Drawing her arm gently through his, he led her out of the dressing room, -and a moment later they were upon the stage, which was thronged with the -members of the company, who greeted him enthusiastically, and in tones -of distinct relief. They, too, had been worried, and with good reason. -Capable actors as they were, they well knew that if Demarest’s play -failed to make a hit, many of them would be in a pretty bad way for a -job. Unlike Marion Gray, they were far from being indespensable to the -trust. - -It was a trying moment for Dick. He did not even know one name from -another, though he had thoroughly memorized the cast, and as soon as the -rehearsal commenced, he would find out their various identities from the -parts they took. Consequently, he plunged at once into the business at -hand. - -“Howdy, everybody,” he began cheerily. “Beastly sorry to have kept you -all on the fence this way, but it couldn’t be helped. We’ll have to make -up for lost time by hustling things along. Let’s get busy at once. Clear -the stage for the first act.” - -Once the plunge was taken, things came easier. The first act went -through with a rush. Dick made few slips, and covered them so skillfully -that no one noticed them. The cast was letter-perfect in their parts, -and had rehearsed so often that they had the business at their finger -ends. - -Merriwell made several changes in the latter, which were all -improvements. It was evident that Demarest knew Cambridge, and the ways -of Harvard men to perfection, but he had slipped up a number of times in -transplanting those ways to New Haven and Yale. They were little things, -but Dick knew that the boys would notice them and probably josh, so he -took it upon himself to do a little altering. - -The big scene in the third act went with a dash which brought -exclamations of enthusiastic appreciation from the actors. It was a -scene which the star practically carried on his own shoulders, and they -had never seen Demarest do better. - -The last act followed swiftly, and, with a sigh of thankfulness, Dick -realized that this ordeal was over. - -He had decided not to go back to his rooms. In fact, he could not -separate himself from the company now without creating suspicion. There -was barely time for a hurried dinner before they would have to be back -at the theatre, so every one made a swift rush to their dressing rooms, -and in ten minutes they began to leave by the stage entrance. - -Merriwell waited for Marion Gray. He felt that Demarest would have done -that, and while she was changing her gown, he stepped out to the box -office to see what the chances for a good house that evening were. - -The ticket seller was enthusiastic. With the exception of a few seats in -the rear of the orchestra and balcony, the entire house was sold out. -Applications were constantly coming in over the phone, and he predicted -that in half an hour only standing room would be left. - -“By Jove!” Merriwell muttered, as he went back to the stage. “I’ve got -to do it now!” - -A moment later he was sitting beside Miss Gray in a cab, being borne -rapidly toward the hotel. The girl did not say much, but she seemed to -have recovered her self-control, and was rejoiced when Dick told her of -the splendid audience they would have to play to. - -Entering the hotel, they went directly to the dining room. As he passed -the desk, Merriwell saw a tall, dark, rather imposing-looking man start -suddenly, and glare at the Yale man with open mouth and swiftly paling -face, as if he could not believe the evidence of his eyes. At the same -moment he heard the girl beside him draw her breath quickly, and in that -instant he felt intuitively that the man must be Ralph Bryton. No wonder -the manager was astounded to see Demarest here, if, as the latter -supposed, he was responsible for the actor’s detention in New York. - -Dick raised his head, and sent a taunting, irritating smile toward the -fellow. Then he passed on into the dining room. - -From that moment things went with such a rush and dash that there was no -time at all to grow nervous. The meal was hurried along at breakneck -speed. The actors were all more or less nervous, for any first night is -an ordeal, and this one particularly so. - -Dick did his best to cheer them up, as he knew Demarest would have done. -He told them of the sold-out house, and kept up a continual string of -whimsical, amusing comment all the time they were at table. - -Dinner over, they returned to the theatre again, and at once dressed for -the first act. - -Presently the doors opened, and the house began to fill. Dick had -finished dressing, and was strolling about the stage, resolutely trying -to keep his thoughts from what was coming. Seat after seat in the -auditorium without banged down. The low murmur of conversation gradually -grew louder as the house filled. Presently he heard the sound of -tramping, followed swiftly by jest and laughter, as a crowd of college -fellows made their way to the front. - -He shivered a little. They would do their best to break him up, he knew. -They always did. Then suddenly a wave of obstinate determination swept -over him. He would not let them guy him. He would spite them all, and -play the part so well that they would have no time for that. - -Presently the musicians began to tune up, and a little later the first -bars of a popular air crashed out. Demarest had had the forethought to -secure an especially fine orchestra, and he was wise. The boys would -have hooted into silence anything less good. As it was, they contented -themselves with keeping time with their feet, and when the chorus of the -song began, they joined in, singing the words. - -The thunderous burst of voices was awe-inspiring—almost terrifying. -Those of the company upon the stage shivered, and several turned pale -under their rouge as they realized what they would have to face. - -Dick noticed it, and turned swiftly toward them. - -“You mustn’t mind them,” he said reassuringly. “They may josh a little -at first, but don’t pay any attention to them. Play your parts for all -that is in you, and they’ll stop pretty quick. We can’t fail, you know, -with such a play as ‘Jarvis of Yale.’” - -A moment later he realized that this must sound decidedly conceited, but -apparently the others did not notice the break. They were too much -intent on their own feelings to think of anything else, but Merriwell’s -cheery words put heart into them, and braced them up. - -The music stopped with a crashing bar, and was followed by loud -applause. - -“Clear the stage!” Dick said swiftly. “All ready for the first act?” - -The first set was on the campus, with Farnum Hall on the drop, and -Battle Chapel looming to the left. A crowd of fellows were sitting on -the steps of the hall, singing in the moonlight. The men took their -places, while the other actors scurried into the wings. Dick was with -them. He did not appear until after the curtain was up. He raised his -hand in a signal, and instantly the trained voices of the quartette -broke the stillness. Softly, at first, they crooned the words of the -familiar college air. Gradually it grew louder and louder, until the -volume filled the wings. Dick felt his heart beating unevenly. - -There was another signal, and the curtain slowly lifted, and revealed -the stage. - -A prolonged burst of genuine applause greeted the beautiful set, which -had been painted by one of the best artists in New York. The fellows had -found nothing so far to guy. They were fair enough according to their -lights. They never jeered a performance simply for the sake of breaking -up the play. It was only their method of showing displeasure for -inferior acting. - -The quartette finished the last verse of the song, and, taking a quick -breath, Dick walked quietly onto the stage. - -He spoke the first few words of his lines uninterrupted. Then there came -a prolonged burst of hand-clapping, which seemed to continue -indefinitely. Either this was simply a mode of expressing their approval -of the actor who had produced the play under such disadvantages, or else -the fellows were trying to break him up. - -But they did not succeed. Dick waited until the applause had died away, -and then continued his lines as if there had been no interruption. - -After a first swift glance at the audience, which seemed to him like -nothing else but a sea of faces rising, tier upon tier, to the very -roof, the Yale man had not felt a particle of nervousness. And with his -first lines he plunged himself into the part he was taking, and from -that moment there was not the least sign of hesitancy in his manner. - -In truth, he was not acting at all. He was simply himself, and the -college fellows in the audience became instantly plunged into a -controversy as to whether it was Dick Merriwell or some one else, which -lasted off and on to the end of the play. - -Once the plunge was taken, the first act went smoothly, gathering -interest as the plot developed. At first Dick’s lines were punctuated by -bursts of applause, which usually started from a certain quarter of the -orchestra where Buckhart was seated, but, as the play progressed, these -became less frequent, until at length the Texan sat gaping at the stage, -growing more and more certain that there had been some mistake, and this -was not his chum at all. - -The first act finished with a brisk round of clapping, which did not -cease until the curtain had risen upon the stage several times, and was -only stilled by Dick’s leading Marion Gray before the footlights. -Evidently the boys were very well pleased. That was plain from the buzz -of talk and favorable comment which arose after the curtain finally -dropped. - -“You were splendid, Austin!” Marion Gray exclaimed, as they hurried off -the stage. “I never saw you do better. Oh, I’m so glad! It can’t help -but go now.” - -“They seemed to like it, all right, didn’t they?” Merriwell smiled. “We -must keep up the good work.” - -“Wait till they see the third act,” she smiled, as she slipped into the -dressing room. “That’ll fetch them.” - -The next act went with rush and vim. Demarest had written better than he -knew. There was not an unnecessary word. The plot unfolded swiftly and -naturally, with an ever-increasing interest. The business was splendid, -thanks to Merriwell’s blue-penciling of the afternoon, and more than one -burst of applause greeted some particularly apt sally. The scene ended -with a dramatic encounter between the heroine, played with grace and -spirit, by Marion Gray, and the villain, in which the girl heard the -latter plotting to have _Jarvis_ thrown off the team by means of false -statements that he had betrayed signals to Harvard, and vowed that she -would save _Jarvis_, whom she loved, by going to the captain of the -eleven with what she had just learned. - -The curtain fell to a prolonged burst of applause, and again Dick had to -go before it with Miss Gray. Then he hustled back to get into his -football rig for the great scene. - -This took place in the track house on the field. Through a great window -at the back could be seen one end of a tier of seats crowded with -spectators, in which the real actors blended into the figures painted on -the drop so perfectly that the effect was one of a vast, shouting, -flag-waving mob of people. - -As the curtain rose, the entire football team was on the stage, -receiving final instructions from the coaches before the game. _Hicks_, -the villain, accused _Jarvis_ of selling their signals to Harvard. The -latter indignantly denied it, and was only restrained from pitching into -his enemy by the efforts of the other men. - -_Hicks_ produced his forged proofs, and _Jarvis_ was thrown off the -team. The team rushed off to the field, and _Jarvis_, left alone, threw -himself into a chair, and dropped his head on his arms, outstretched -across a table, in an agony of heartbroken despair. - -It was a thrilling moment. The whole vast audience was so still that one -could almost have heard a pin drop. Then a shrill whistle from the field -outside the window split the silence, and the mimic crowd on the grand -stand burst forth into a roar. Still _Jarvis_ did not raise his head. - -Then came the sounds of the game. The thudding of many feet upon a mimic -turf, the shrill cries and shouts of the excited spectators, the waving -of many flags. - -Slowly _Jarvis_ lifted his head, and looked toward the window. The game -was going on, and he was out of it. He would not look! He did not want -to, but, little by little, against his will, he crept to the window. The -game was in full swing; his blood was thrilled as his eyes were riveted -on the field; unconsciously he followed the progress of the struggle -aloud. - -Dick Merriwell’s work in this scene was masterly in its simplicity. He -had forgotten that he was playing a part—had almost forgotten that he -was on the stage. For the time he really was _Lance Jarvis_, and his -expression of the heartbreaking agony of the man ruled off his team at -the crucial moment, watching the progress of the game with straining -eyes and sweating brow, seeing the weakness of his team, and yet not -able to help, was something which could never be forgotten. - -The crowded house was thrilled into silence. Men sat on the edges of -their seats, with eyes riveted on that single figure at the window, -scarcely daring to breathe, for fear they would break the spell. - -Presently the game began to go against the Yale team. Slowly the line -was forced down the field. The vivid words of the unconscious actor -painted the scene for the excited audience as clearly as if they had -been looking on the game itself. - -“They’re gaining!” he cried desperately. “They’re going through the line -with every rush! _Lawrence_ is groggy! They’re hammering him! Another -ten yards and they’ll make a touchdown!” - -As if unable to longer watch the failure of his team, Merriwell turned -from the window, and put one hand over his eyes. - -This was the cue for the newsboy to rush in with word that the heroine -had been intercepted by the villain’s friends while on her way to save -_Jarvis_, but to Dick’s surprise the boy did not appear. He waited a -moment, and then, turning back for an instant to the window, improvised -a line or two. - -Suddenly the door burst open, and the belated boy appeared. His face was -white, his eyes shining with excitement, a smear of blood trickled from -a cut on his face. - -Leaping across the stage, he caught Dick’s arm. - -“They’ve got her!” he shrilled. “They’re trying to get Miss Gray into a -cab. Hurry! Hurry, or you’ll be too late!” - -These were not the proper words at all, but they seemed very appropriate -to the audience, who burst into applause. Dick, knowing full well that -something was wrong, rushed from the stage, with the boy at his heels. - -Outside he stopped, and faced the actor. - -“What is it?” he demanded. “What are you talking about? What’s the -matter?” - -“They’ve got Miss Gray!” gasped the boy. “Down at the stage door. -They’re carrying her off. One of ’em hit me a crack——” - -He found himself talking to empty air. Merriwell rushed through the -wings, flung himself down the short flight of stairs, and burst out into -the street. - -The boy was right. A cab was drawn up close to the curb, into which two -men were trying to force Marion Gray. The girl was struggling -desperately, and trying to drag away the hand of one of them, which was -pressed close against her mouth to prevent her crying out. - -Like a panther, Merriwell sprang at them. With a grip of iron he seized -the collar of one, and tore him away from the girl, planting a smashing -blow on his face as he did so. The next minute the other was stretched -on the ground, and Marion was free. - -The Yale man would like to have stayed to complete the job, but he knew -that there was not a moment to lose. They must get back to the stage. -Half lifting, half supporting the girl, who was sobbing hysterically, he -carried her through the stage door, back to the wings. - -“It’s all right,” he soothed. “You must brace up, Marion. You’ve got to -think of the play. We’ll have to go on in a minute.” - -She caught her breath, and brought all her will to bear to calm herself. - -“You’re right,” she faltered. “I mustn’t fail. That’s what he wanted to -carry me off for—to spoil the play.” - -“It was Bryton, I suppose?” Dick questioned. - -“Yes.” - -She put her hand up, and mechanically smoothed her hair. As she did so, -Dick heard their cue to enter. - -“There’s the cue,” he said quickly. “Can you go on?” - -“Yes, I’m all right now.” - -They hurried to the entrance, and stepped onto the stage. Luckily the -situation in the play was enough to account for any signs of emotion -which Marion Gray displayed, but she was very soon herself again. - -The first half of the game was over. The men came into the track house, -worn and exhausted by their struggles, discouraged by their failure—for -Harvard had scored. Marion Gray told her story, swiftly, dramatically. -The villain was unmasked, and _Jarvis_ restored to the team to play out -the second half. - -The curtain dropped to the sound of thunderous applause. The audience -fairly broke loose. Yells and catcalls made bedlam of the place. Time -and time again Merriwell came before the curtain with Miss Gray. At -length he was forced to appear alone, and shouts of “Speech! Speech!” -rent the air. - -This nearly broke him up, but he managed to say a few words of thanks -before he backed out of sight. - -The last act was a short one, which simply rounded things out, and tied -up loose ends. The game was over. _Jarvis_ had won a victory for Yale by -a phenomenal play, and appeared on the stage, borne on the shoulders of -his enthusiastic comrades. The play ended with a pretty bit of -love-making between the heroine and _Lance Jarvis_, which Marion Gray -played with all the fascination and art she possessed. It fairly brought -down the house, and Dick found himself wondering how Austin Demarest -could go through that every night of the week without falling head over -heels in love with the attractive actress. - -When the curtain dropped it was past eleven o’clock, but no one made a -move to leave the theatre. They simply sat in their seats, thundering on -the floor with their feet, clapping their hands sore, and raising such a -din that the actors on the stage could not hear a spoken word. - -The curtin rolled up again and again, revealing the long semicircle of -smiling faces, happy in the knowledge that they had helped score a -phenomenal success. Already they saw themselves booked for a long run at -a Broadway playhouse. - -Up and down the curtain went, almost continuously, and still the -crashing bursts of sound reverberated from orchestra to gallery, and -back again. - -Presently there was a momentary pause, and then came the deep, -thunderous, blood-stirring roar of marshaled cheering, from a thousand -throats: - -“Demarest! Demarest! Demarest!” - -As he stood in the centre of the stage, with Marion Gray at his side, -Dick felt an odd lump in his throat, and something like a mist came -before his eyes. He had never known such a sensation before. - -“Aren’t you happy?” whispered the girl. - -Dick looked down into her eyes, which were bright with tears. - -“Yes,” he said simply. - -And he was. He had won out for his friend. He had also done a piece of -good work which Demarest would find it hard to equal, but the Yale man -did not realize that at the time. He had simply done his best, and had -succeeded. - -At last, after Merriwell had appeared alone before the curtain eight or -ten times, the enthusiastic audience seemed to be content, and, leaving -their seats, began to file slowly out of the theatre. But throughout the -college buildings that night, and in a good many other parts of New -Haven, “Jarvis of Yale,” and the superb acting of Austin Demarest, were -the sole topics of conversation. - - * * * * * - -About eleven o’clock next morning Merriwell sat alone in his room, -waiting for Demarest. A wire had come two hours before, saying that he -was at liberty, and would take the next train to New Haven, so that Dick -momentarily expected to see him. - -He was feeling a little of the mental strain which he had undergone, but -otherwise was in splendid shape. His one reply to the inquiries as to -where he had been last night was to tell the fellows that he had had a -chance to go behind the scenes, and had stayed there throughout the -play. One and all, his friends had commented on the amazing resemblance -between himself and the author of the play, and he had agreed with them -that it was most extraordinary. - -He was a little annoyed to find out that Buckhart knew the truth, but, -after all, it mattered very little now, especially when he knew that the -Texan would never divulge the secret. Brad’s utter astonishment when he -found that Dick really had played the part of _Jarvis_ was very funny. -He pronounced the performance as the very “corkingest” thing he had ever -seen. - -Suddenly Dick’s quick ear caught the sound of hurried feet on the -stairs, a moment later the door was burst open, and Demarest, his face -aglow with joyous enthusiasm, dashed into the room. - -With a sweep of his arms, he caught Dick about the shoulders, and gave -him a great hug. - -“Oh, you brick!” he cried. “I didn’t know there was such a bully fellow -alive! As long as I live I’ll never forget what you did for me last -night. It was splendid! But what an old bluffer you are.” - -He took a step backward, and gazed at the Yale man affectionately. - -Dick looked a little puzzled. - -“What do you mean?” he asked. - -“Why, pretending you couldn’t act, of course.” - -“But I can’t,” Dick objected. “At least, I didn’t think I could.” - -“That’s good!” laughed Demarest. “Why, your performance last night is -the talk of the town. Have you seen the papers yet?” - -Dick shook his head smilingly, and the actor raised his eyes to the -ceiling. - -“Great Scott!” he cried, in astonishment. “Not looked at the papers! -What do you think of that!” - -He dragged a large bundle of newspapers from his pocket and held them -up. - -“Notices in every decent New York daily!” he cried triumphantly. “And -such notices! Listen to this!” - -Swiftly unfolding one, he found the right place and read unctuously: - -“‘Jarvis of Yale,’ produced last night—um—um—— The acting of Austin -Demarest in the title part was a treat which has not been our privilege -to witness in many moons. His rendering of _Lance Jarvis_ was masterly -in its simple directness, its naturalness and truth, while at the same -time his emotional range was wide and his pathos quite distinguished -from bathos. He seemed, more than almost any actor which we can at -present recall, to get under the skin of the character he was -portraying. He was the typical college man. Manly, true-hearted, -generous, full of the eternal joy of youth. One would almost have -supposed that he had stepped directly on the stage from the college -campus so near at hand. A tremendous, and widely enthusiastic audience -crowded the old theatre to the very doors. It is quite safe to predict -that ‘Jarvis of Yale’ will settle down very shortly for a long Broadway -run. Certainly it would be hard to find a more clean-cut, dramatic, -thoroughly wholesome play, without a dull moment from start to finish, -than this maiden effort of the most popular and able leading man of the -past season, who received much of his early training in the company of -the late Richard Manton.” - -Demarest tossed the paper aside and turned to Dick. - -“There! What do you think of that? There’s a lot more about you and the -rest of the company that I skipped. Not act, indeed!” - -Merriwell’s face was serious and his eyes very bright. - -“But I didn’t act at all,” he said quickly. “I just learned the lines -and left the rest to luck. All I did was to try and imagine what I would -feel like and what I’d do if I were in _Lance Jarvis’_ place.” - -The young actor laughed. - -“That’s what we all try to do,” he returned; “but we don’t always -succeed. It’s a shame, though, that I should get all the credit of this! -It doesn’t seem a bit fair. People ought to know that I wasn’t the -fellow who played last night. I tell you it makes me feel pretty mean to -take another man’s laurels.” - -“But that’s the only reason why I did it,” Dick objected. “It was to -save you.” - -“And you succeeded,” the other put in quickly. “I builded better than I -knew when I sent you that wire. Now tell me all about it. How did -everything go off? Did any one suspect? How did Marion take things?” - - * * * * * - -Two months later, when “Jarvis of Yale” was at the height of its -metropolitan success, Dick Merriwell received the following note: - - “DEAR OLD BOY: Perhaps you won’t be awfully surprised when I - tell you that Marion and I have agreed to travel henceforth - through this weary world in double harness. She knows the secret - of my first performance in New Haven, and when I told her that - you took my place she was perfectly horrified. She won’t tell me - anything, but I gather that something happened that night which - wasn’t on the program. She did say she’d never be able to look - you in the face again. If I didn’t know you so well, I should be - writhing in the grip of the green-eyed monster. As it is, I’m - only curious. Perhaps you’ll put me wise next time you see me. - Yours ever, AUSTIN.” - -But Dick never did, and was soon back deep in the athletic sports of the -college. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV - - THE FELLOW WITH A GROUCH. - - -Jack Kenny was sore. He had been out of humor for a long time—to be -exact, ever since the football election last year, in which Don Tempest -had been chosen captain of the varsity—but he had done his best to hide -this feeling from those about him. - -Dick Merriwell, himself the best all-around athlete in college, had more -than once expressed his belief that many of the triumphs of the very -satisfactory season of a year ago had been due to Kenny’s amazingly -clever headwork. - -But the quarter back was not a fellow to foster a long-continued grouch -if he could help it. He had a decided strain of real sporting blood in -his make-up, and, after the first flare-up of rage and disappointment -when he learned the result of the election, he had calmed down and tried -to take things philosophically. - -But with the return of Don Tempest to the helm just before the Princeton -game, the old feelings of doubt and resentment came back with renewed -force, in spite of the plucky efforts on Kenny’s part to take his -medicine like a man. - -Tempest himself was not a fellow to help matters much. He was a splendid -player, and, what was more, a born general in his ability to plan out a -game and play it scientifically; but, like many generals in the bigger -game of life, he had a supreme belief in his own ability, an intolerance -of criticism and advice, and a certain lack of sympathy and tact in his -handling of the other players, which resulted in his being far from -popular. - -Men recognized his ability and appreciated the value of his generalship, -while they did not care for him personally, which was well enough so -long as everything went along without a hitch and there were no -fall-downs. - -All this did not help Jack Kenny in his effort—quite determined and -sincere—to conquer the feeling of resentment and sense of having been -used unfairly, which kept constantly cropping up in his mind. Hearing -now and then little jibes and flings against the captain from other -fellows only confirmed his own impression that Tempest was unfit for the -position. - -This belief was fostered by his own keen observation during the progress -of a game or on the practice field. More than once he saw opportunities -which Tempest seemed to miss. Latterly they had had several run-ins -about certain plays and formations, of which Kenny could not see the -value, but which Tempest insisted should be used. - -The result was that the quarter back’s usually even temper had become -more and more rasped as time went on, until he reached a point when the -slightest admonition from Tempest irritated him almost beyond endurance, -and a decided coolness had developed between the two men. - -This afternoon had been a particularly trying one. Tempest had seemed -even more unreasonable and domineering than usual, compelling Kenny to -exercise every bit of will power he possessed to refrain from flaring up -and causing an open outbreak. - -He did not want to do this. He knew the fatal nature of a team playing -at loggerheads, and the great game of the season—the contest with -Harvard—was too close at hand to run any chances. But he felt that if -Tempest continued in his present course very much longer no power on -earth could prevent an explosion. - -“He’s so darned thick-headed and set in his ways that it makes a fellow -wild,” he grumbled to himself as he crossed the field toward the track -house. “If it wasn’t for the game Saturday, I’d have let him have a -piece of my mind to-day, and he could have done what he liked about it. -Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing for him to hear what some of the boys -really think about him.” - -Still scowling fiercely, he entered the house and found several of the -fellows there ahead of him. They were gathered in a little group on the -farther side of the locker room, and had evidently been discussing -something with a relish; but as Kenny entered they all stopped abruptly -and glanced swiftly toward the door. - -“Oh, it’s only Ken,” remarked Phil Keran, who had taken Hollister’s -place at right end. “He’s all right. We were just talking about the -crazy stunts Tempest went through this afternoon.” - -“Yes,” chimed in Rudolph Rose; “did you ever see anything more senseless -than that fool double pass he wasted half the afternoon on. Why a child -would catch on to it, and it couldn’t be used more than once during the -entire game.” - -“And that crisscross play with Baxter and Merriwell,” spoke up Bud -Baulsir, who played centre. “You didn’t like that for a cent, did you, -Ken? I heard you kicking about it to Tempest, but a fellow might as well -argue with a stone wall as to try and convince him he’s wrong.” - -“He’s so thick-headed and stuffed full of conceit that it drives a man -wild!” Kenny burst out, unable to contain himself any longer. “He seems -to think nobody but himself knows anything about the game. It was all I -could do to keep from giving him some talk straight from the shoulder, -when he spent the whole afternoon on those two pet stunts of his.” - -“Why didn’t you?” Rose asked quickly. “Might have done him good.” - -Kenny’s lip curled. - -“Him—good!” he exclaimed sarcastically. “Take another guess, Rudie. Bah! -The only thing that would do him good would be to have Harvard wipe up -the field with us, and then he’d blame it on some one else. I’m sick of -his high and mighty airs, and I tell you one thing, fellows, if he nags -me to-morrow the way he did to-day there’ll be something doing.” - -“That’s the way to talk!” Baulsir said approvingly. “What business had -he got interfering with the quarter, anyhow?” - -“He hasn’t any, if I show results,” retorted Kenny. “It’s all right to -tell me what he wants before we start, but I can’t stand this nag, nag -all through the playing. If he’s so crazy about deciding every play -himself, why doesn’t he take my place?” - -“I notice things went pretty well while Brad was at the helm,” Rose -commented; “and he didn’t try any tricks like that. He played the game -as it should be played, and not——” - -“’Sh!” interrupted Keran. “Here they come.” - -The thud of feet sounded on the turf outside, and a moment later the -rest of the team appeared, filling the room with the sound of talk, -argument, and discussion. The group by the window melted away, and Kenny -made haste to appropriate one of the showers before they were all taken. - -At the training table that night the football squad was not in the -liveliest sort of humor. Kenny still retained symptoms of his grouch of -the afternoon, and, besides that, there was a subtle undercurrent of -discord which made itself felt insensibly. - -Dick Merriwell noticed the symptoms at once. He had, in fact, realized -for some days past that things were not as they should be with the team, -and that afternoon he had quite expected an outburst from Kenny over the -rather exacting ways of Tempest. - -When it had not come, he was rather sorry, though he gave the quarter -back full credit for his admirable self-control. An angry outbreak or -open flare-up is much easier to contend with than the grudge which is -nursed and fostered in secret, ever gaining in strength and volume like -a snowball rolling downhill, until at length it proves a serious menace -to discipline and effectiveness. - -He had noticed Tempest’s methods of running the team and had observed -with regret some of the mistakes the fellow made in handling the men. -But he realized that it was Tempest’s way of doing things. It was as -much a part of his make-up as his admirable executive ability, and quite -as impossible to change. - -Merriwell’s keen sense of observation took in what Kenny either would -not or could not see—that Tempest was the better man of the two for the -place. His judgment was sounder and his knowledge of the tactics and -stratagem of the game better than Kenny’s. It was only his methods of -handling the men which were at fault and which prevented him from -obtaining perfect results. - -Dick had worried a good deal over the matter, for he knew how much -depended on there being perfect concord among the members of the team. -To do their best, it was necessary for each individual to throw aside -all personal feelings and subordinate himself to the general good. The -slightest rift in the lute showed itself promptly in the lowered _esprit -de corps_ of the organization. - -As yet he had not said anything definite to Tempest. He knew the fellow -was doing his best to secure results. His whole heart was fixed on -gaining a victory in the great game of the season, and to that end he -strained every effort. Merriwell had tried several times by means of -gentle hints to bring about an improvement in the condition of affairs, -but he was afraid that he should very soon feel like seeking recourse in -other methods. - -Thinking the matter over at the table that night made him, too, rather -silent, and added to the general impression of uneasiness and disquiet -which prevailed. - -Kenny was one of the first to finish supper and leave the table. Phil -Keran caught up with him as he was walking back through “Grub Alley.” - -“What’s your hurry?” he questioned. - -“Oh, nothing special,” the quarter back returned shortly. “I just didn’t -feel like hanging around there and hearing Tempest shoot off his face.” - -Keran laughed. - -“I should think you had had about enough of him for one day,” he -rejoined. “Got anything on to-night?” - -“No. What’s up?” - -“I just thought you might like to come around to our rooms and meet -Clarence Carr, Archie’s brother,” Keran answered. “You remember Archie -Carr, who graduated two years ago, don’t you?” - -“Surest thing you know,” Kenny returned, brightening up a little. “He -substituted on the varsity the year I was captain of the scrub. I don’t -ever remember his brother, though.” - -“Nice chap,” commented Keran. “Broker, I understand, and is taking a few -days off to rest up after a bear raid on the market. He’s stopping at -the New Haven House.” - -“Yale man?” - -“Nope, Brown. But he’s all for old Eli on his brother’s account. Crazy -about football, and is going to stay over for the game Saturday.” - -They crossed Elm Street and struck into the campus by Durfee. Keran and -Kenny both had quarters in Vanderbilt, and five minutes later they were -settled in the latter’s comfortable sitting room on the third floor. -Carr had not yet arrived, but presently a couple of other fellows -strolled in, and about half-past seven there came a brisk knock on the -door. - -Keran at once sprang up, and, opening it, ushered in a slim, erect man -of about thirty, with keen, dark eyes, rather good-looking features, and -fairly bubbling over with vim and good spirits. - -“How are you, old fellow!” he exclaimed, shaking Keran’s hand. “Great of -you to have me here. Archie said I mustn’t lose any time in looking up -‘Old Phil,’ as he calls you, the minute I set foot in New Haven.” - -“Glad to see you again, Mr. Carr,” Keran returned cordially, as he took -his guest’s coat and hat. “I recognized your voice perfectly over the -phone this morning.” - -“Really?” exclaimed Carr. “You’ve got a good memory. Why, we only met -once, and that was three years ago.” - -He greeted Kenny and the other men with a smile and hearty handclasp, -and then settled down in an easy-chair and pulled out a cigar case. - -“I won’t offer you one, Keran,” he smiled, “because I know you shouldn’t -take it, but perhaps your friends will indulge. I’ll guarantee they’re -pretty good.” - -He extended the case to Kenny, who sat nearest him. The quarter back -shook his head. - -“No, thanks. I’m in Phil’s class.” - -“Don’t you believe it,” grinned Keran. “He’s a sight more important to -the varsity than I ever could be. Why, I only got in after the Princeton -game by the skin of my teeth, whereas he’s been quarter back for two -years running.” - -Mr. Carr seemed much interested. Proffering the case to the other two -men, who each took a cigar, he selected a weed himself and returned the -rest to his pocket. - -“Well, well,” he remarked briskly. “Quarter, eh? That’s a pretty -responsible job. In my day the quarter back was the brains of the team.” - -“So he is to-day,” Keran said quickly. “He would be at New Haven if we -didn’t have a fellow like Tempest trying to——” - -He stopped abruptly, and his face flushed a little. In his haste he had -said rather more than he had intended, considering that Carr was a -comparative stranger. - -The latter held the lighted match suspended in the air about six inches -away from his cigar, while he surveyed Keran’s embarrassed face with his -keen black eyes. - -“Tempest?” he questioned. “He’s the captain, isn’t he?” - -Keran nodded. - -There was a momentary pause, during which Carr applied the match to his -cigar and took a puff or two to make sure that it was well lighted. Then -he leaned back comfortably on his chair. - -“It’s always a mistake for the captain to butt in too much with the -quarter back,” he remarked casually. “Of course, if the quarter isn’t -onto his job he should be coached; but if he can’t stand on his own legs -at this stage of the game he ought to be dropped and some one found who -could. Constant nagging of the quarter back has been the cause of a good -many defeats. Why, I remember just such a case in my last year at Brown. -I was one of the subs in the game with Cornell. The captain had a grudge -against the quarter, and his continual interference got the fellow so on -his ear that we lost the game. Ballard—that was the captain—certainly -got his when it was all over with. Coaches, alumni, and about all the -team landed on his neck and roasted him good and plenty. He never -repeated the trick.” - -Kenny felt a sort of warming toward his new acquaintance. He seemed to -be a man of a good deal of understanding, and the instance he had cited -fitted Kenny’s own case exactly. - -“Of course, a fellow doesn’t mind suggestions, or even orders, when -they’re given at the proper time and place,” he put in hastily. “I hope -I haven’t got such a case of swelled head as to think that nobody can -give me points; but what’s the use of being quarter if you can’t do a -little thinking now and then on your own hook?” - -Carr nodded understandingly. - -“Exactly my point of view,” he returned quickly, exhaling a cloud of -smoke as he spoke. “I fancy the trouble with this Tempest is that he -wants to have his finger in everything.” - -There was a momentary pause. Neither Kenny nor Keran seemed inclined to -pursue the subject farther. Presently Carr looked up at the latter. - -“Of course you boys are going to wipe up the gridiron with Harvard on -Saturday?” he smiled. - -Keran grinned. - -“Oh, sure,” he returned quickly. “There won’t be anything left of them -to carry back to Cambridge.” - -Carr laughed heartily; then his face sobered. - -“But honestly, haven’t the crimson boys got a crackerjack eleven this -year?” he questioned seriously. “The splendid game they put up the other -day got me a little worried. I certainly don’t want to see old Yale -thrown down.” - -“I don’t think you need have any fear of that,” Keran said slowly, -“unless——” - -He hesitated. Carr’s bright eyes were fixed questioningly on his face. - -“Yes?” - -“Unless—— Oh, well, you can’t tell what might happen,” Keran finished -with an attempt at carelessness. “When Bob Hollister dropped out just -before the Princeton game it was the very last thing that any of us -expected.” - -A gleam of comprehension flickered across Carr’s mobile face and was -gone. - -“True,” he murmured, “one never can tell what might turn up. But we’ll -certainly hope nothing does. If I were betting on the game, I think I -should have no hesitation in putting my money on the blue.” - -The talk drifted to other subjects, and for half an hour Carr -entertained the fellows with stories and amusing anecdotes. He was a -good talker and had apparently had all sorts of interesting experiences, -but he also knew when to leave off. As the clock struck half-past nine -he arose briskly to his feet. - -“Well, boys, I must be running along,” he said, with a smile. “Had a -bully evening, Keran, and no end glad to meet these friends of yours. -I’ll see you all again before Saturday, I hope.” - -He slipped into his overcoat and started toward the door. At that moment -Kenny recollected that he ought to do some studying that night, so he -followed the older man out. - -At the head of the stairs they said good night again, and, as they shook -hands, the quarter back said carelessly: - -“If you’d care to drop in and see me some night, I’d be awfully glad to -have you. My rooms are on the next floor.” - -“Thanks very much,” returned Carr. “I’ll take you up some night and -smoke a cigar with you. By-by.” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XXV - - THE EXPLOSION. - - -Jack Kenny, arrayed in his well-worn, faded football togs, sat lacing up -his shoes. He was feeling fine. His grouch of the night before had -pretty well worn off, and, as he pulled the laces tight, he warbled a -little ditty which had just been going the rounds of New Haven: - - “There was a girl in our town, - And she was good to scan. - She spent her days in playing games - Where she got lots of tan. - And when she saw the tan was on, - With all her might and main, - She rushed into a beauty shop - And took it off again.” - -The air was insidiously catchy, and, without realizing it, most of the -dozen fellows who thronged the locker room in various stages of undress, -hustling to clothe themselves for the afternoon practice, began to hum -it. - -Kenny stood up and stamped each foot hard. Then, in his droning, -monotonous undertone—he had very little voice and less ear—he commenced -the second verse: - - “There was a girl in our town - Built on a mammoth plan.” - -Then the fellows woke up. - -“Cut it out!” - -“Shut up!” - -“Close your trap, you old idiot!” - -“You sound like a scissor grinder!” - -Kenny ceased his musical efforts and looked around in wild-eyed -surprise. - -“Thought you liked it,” he grinned. “You were all humming it to beat the -cars.” - -“Of course we were!” retorted Rudolph Rose. “Why wouldn’t we when you -start us going?” - -“I’d just got the beastly thing out of my head after whistling it the -whole blessed morning,” grumbled Teddy Baxter, “when you had to go and -begin it again.” - -“Too bad,” Kenny sighed with suspicious meekness. “I won’t do it again.” - -But the mischief was already done. All the way out to the gridiron some -one would burst out every now and then with a few bars, and then -suddenly close his jaws with a vicious snap and glare at the innocent -quarter back. - -The latter took his place in the line quickly. He had resolved to keep a -good hold on his temper, and if Tempest was only halfway decent things -would go all right. He did not want to precipitate an outbreak, for he -knew that it would only make a bad matter worse. - -“There are only a few days more,” he thought to himself, “and then it -will be all over. I’ll try and be good unless he shoves me too hard.” - -Unfortunately, the captain of the varsity was not in the best of humors. -He had been worrying over a certain complicated pass, which he wanted to -use in the great game, but of which he felt rather doubtful. He knew its -value if it were only properly done, but he wasn’t at all sure that the -fellows were familiar enough with it to have it at their fingers’ ends. - -Consequently he was a bit short in his manner when he ordered Kenny to -start out with that play. - -“Fool!” grumbled the quarter back to himself. “Don’t he give me credit -for any sense? He might have known after the way things were left -yesterday that I’d start out with that pass. You might think this was a -kindergarten!” - -He crouched, ripped out the signal, took the ball from Baulsir, and -slammed it to Baxter, who passed close behind him. It was a fair pass, -and the play went through successfully. - -“Try it again,” ordered Tempest, as they lined up after the down. -“Little more ginger, Kenny. Don’t hold onto the ball quite so long this -time.” - -Kenny flushed. - -“What the mischief do you want me to do with it?” he snapped. “I can’t -very well pass it until Baxter gets within reach.” - -“You know what I mean,” returned the captain shortly. “All ready, now.” - -Kenny ground his teeth and bit his lips to keep back the retort which -was trembling on them. - -“Gee! I’d like to give you one that would spoil that ugly mug of yours!” -he thought angrily. - -This time his movements were like chain lightning. Snatching the ball -from Baulsir, he slammed it back so swiftly that Baxter, who was not -quite ready for it, clutched wildly for it, stumbled, staggered, and -only retained his hold on the slippery pigskin by a tremendous effort. -There was a momentary delay which gave the scrub a chance to lunge -forward, and the result was that the pass netted barely a yard, before -the down. - -Tempest’s eyes flashed. - -“Worse than before!” he exclaimed. “Why don’t you use a little judgment, -Kenny?” - -The quarter back whirled around and faced him. - -“Why don’t you give me a chance?” he retorted. “The way you’ve been -playing the game lately, it looks to me as if you didn’t expect any one -to have a grain of sense except yourself.” - -Tempest’s face hardened. He opened his lips as though he were about to -make a sharp retort and then shut them with a snap. - -“That’ll about do for you!” he said, in a hard voice. “Go over that pass -again, and do it right this time.” - -Jack Kenny’s face was scarlet. His lips trembled and he was evidently -having a struggle to contain himself. Finally, with tightly clenched -fists, he turned his back to the captain and crouched in his place. - -“By thunder!” he muttered. “I can’t stand much more of that. Just about -one more of those remarks and something will happen.” - -This time the pass went through without any criticism on the part of Don -Tempest. He seemed to realize that he had been rather too hasty, and for -a time he restrained his very evident desire to dictate to the quarter -back. - -Kenny kept at the pass until the fellows had it down like clockwork. For -a time he was obstinately determined not to leave it until Tempest gave -the word. The latter had been running things to suit himself. Let him -decide what he wanted done. - -Presently, however, the quarter back realized the childishness of such -methods of procedure. Tempest’s interference was the very thing which -had made him so sore, and now he was simply playing into the captain’s -hands by his foolishness. - -Consequently, when he was sure that the pass had been thoroughly -mastered, he gave the signal for the crisscross play which had used up -so much time the day before. He did not consider it of very much value. -From its very nature, they could not use it more than twice at the most, -during the entire game; but so much stress had been laid on it yesterday -that he went through it a number of times until he felt that the men had -it thoroughly in their heads. Then he branched out into something else. - -For a time Tempest made no comment, though the fellows noticed that he -was getting more and more uneasy. They could see no particular reason -for it. Kenny seemed to be doing well enough. He was going through all -the passes and runs and formations which had been practiced so much for -two weeks back, alternating them with skill and judgment. It was a sort -of general review of the plays which they would use against Harvard, and -the quarter back felt that it was good season they went through it; -instead of spending all their time on one or two formations. - -The shadows began to lengthen across the field. Presently the sun -dropped behind the west grand stand, and twilight swiftly gathered. -Still Kenny kept up his general tactics without returning to the double -pass or the crisscross which had used up so much of the afternoon. At -length, just as they were lining up after a round-the-end run, Tempest -spoke up again. - -“Give us that crisscross again,” he said shortly. - -“Bah!” grumbled Kenny, without turning. “You and your old crisscross!” - -Tempest’s ears seemed to be abnormally sharp. - -“What did you say?” he snapped. - -His nerves were a little on edge from the mental strain and worry he had -been under for the past few weeks, and probably his voice was sharper -and more domineering than he realized. At all events, it was the last -straw. Kenny straightened up and turned slowly around to face the -captain. His face was a little pale and his lips firmly set. - -“I said, ‘Hang you and your old crisscross,’” he returned deliberately. -“We’ve wasted three-quarters of an hour on it already this afternoon, -and the fellows couldn’t get it any smoother if they tried.” - -Tempest’s face grew hard and set. - -“Who’s running this team, Kenny?” he demanded. “You or I?” - -“You seem to be making a pretty good stab at running the team and -everybody on it!” the quarter back burst out, throwing caution to the -winds. “You make me sick with your eternal butting in. You don’t give a -fellow credit for a grain of sense. It’s ‘Kenny do this, Kenny do that,’ -the whole enduring time. You might think I was a machine that wouldn’t -work until you turned the crank. How do you expect to make out in the -game, I’d like to know? You’ll have to keep your mouth shut then. If you -don’t think I’m good enough for the job, why in thunder don’t you throw -me out and take it yourself? But no, that wouldn’t do. The trouble with -you, Don Tempest, is that you want to run the whole lot of us as if we -were a flock of sheep without any ideas of our own, and a nice mess -you’ll make of it. Look at the Princeton game! I’ve stood about all of -your domineering ways I’m going to for one afternoon. You can turn to -and be quarter yourself, and see how you like it!” - -Without waiting for a reply, he turned and started toward the track -house at a rapid stride. - -For a moment not a sound broke the stillness. Tempest glared after the -retreating Kenny as if he would liked to throttle him. The other members -of the team stood silent, shifting from one foot to the other, waiting -for the explosion with mixed expressions. Some seemed rather pleased -than otherwise at the turn things had taken, while others, realizing the -gravity of the situation, looked serious. - -“You blamed little runt!” exploded Tempest as soon as he got his breath. -“If I don’t——” - -He broke off abruptly as Dick Merriwell stepped quickly to his side and -touched his arm warningly. A few swift, whispered words passed between -the two. Dick seemed to be urging something to which the captain at -length reluctantly agreed. - -“That’ll do for to-day,” he said shortly, his eyes sweeping over the -faces of the waiting men. “Three o’clock to-morrow, sharp!” - -The group instantly melted away, most of the men being eager to get out -of earshot to talk over this new, and not altogether unexpected, -development. Dick, Tempest, and the coaches remained behind. - -“It’s a case of insubordination, pure and simple!” the captain burst -out. “He’ll have to go!” - -There was no word of acquiescence from the men around him, and Tempest -flashed a swift glance of surprise at their serious faces. - -“You don’t agree with me?” he questioned shortly. - -“Where are you going to get another quarter at this stage of the game?” -growled Bill Fullerton, the head coach. - -“Why, Gillis, of the scrub,” Tempest answered. “He knows all the signals -and has the plays down pat.” - -Almost in spite of himself, however, there was an undercurrent of doubt -in his voice. - -“Punk along side of Kenny,” Fullerton said tersely. - -“But I can’t take that line of talk and do nothing,” protested Tempest. -“In twenty-four hours there wouldn’t be any discipline left.” - -He glanced at Merriwell questioningly, expecting confirmation of his -views, but Dick slowly shook his head. - -“It wouldn’t do, Don,” he said slowly. “At least, not at this late day. -If we had a couple of weeks before the game, Gillis might be hammered -into shape; but it would be suicidal to put him in Kenny’s place now.” - -He hesitated a moment and then went on quietly: - -“I hate butting in, old fellow, but once in a while a chap’s got to. You -don’t mind if I speak rather freely, do you, Don?” - -Tempest shook his head, but it was plain from the expression on his face -that advice was not especially palatable. - -“Spit it out, Dick,” he returned shortly. - -“It’s just this, Don,” Merriwell explained. “I think that, in a way, -you’re a little to blame for Kenny’s flare-up. He’s been sore for quite -some time. I’ve been watching him closely, and I rather expected the -outbreak would come before this. The reason why it didn’t was because -Jack was doing his best to keep his temper. I think he realized, as well -as you or I could, the folly, even danger, of a split in the team at -this juncture; and I honestly believe that he kept a grip on himself -until he simply couldn’t hold in any longer.” - -Tempest’s face darkened. - -“That’s a pretty hard one on me, Merriwell,” he said quickly. “You imply -that I practically drove him to the wall.” - -“In a way, yes,” Dick answered. “Of course it wasn’t intentional on your -part. I don’t mean that, at all. I don’t suppose you’ve realized it, old -man, but you have been putting in your oar lately a little bit more than -is wise. No doubt you’ve seen the value of certain plays, which, -perhaps, haven’t appealed to Kenny, and have consequently harped on them -more than you have any idea of. You’ve lost track of the fact that Jack -is one of the ablest, most brainy quarters we’ve ever had, and that he -should be entitled to do a little thinking on his own hook. Besides, no -fellow, no matter how much of a dub he may be, likes to be constantly -pounded and hammered at before the whole team. Most men have to be -handled with a little diplomacy and tact—taken aside, you know, and -perhaps asked their advice as to the value of a certain play or -formation, instead of being ordered to do thus and so without having any -reason given them. Perhaps that method doesn’t appeal to you, but I have -found it much the simplest and effective way of getting results. - -“The fellow is a bit flattered at having his opinion consulted. He does -what you want willingly, and half the time he thinks that it is his own -idea. Everybody is happy and the goose hangs high. Of course, you -haven’t realized it, but really, Don, you’ve been pretty sharp and -domineering for the past two weeks. I have a notion that the big game -has got on your nerves a trifle, and that, in your anxiety to prepare -against any contingency, you’ve gone at the fellows in a way which has -made others than Jack Kenny sore.” - -He stopped, and for a time no one spoke. Then Bill Fullerton nodded his -head emphatically. - -“That’s the talk!” he said decidedly. “Lead ’em, don’t try to drive ’em, -and you get better results. Let me do the driving when it is necessary.” - -Tempest’s face was a study. Chagrin and anger struggled with a dawning -realization that Merriwell had spoken the truth. He was a fellow who -hated to be given advice, but he was also fair-minded enough to know -that Dick was not the sort who would speak as he had unless there was a -great need for it. - -“I suppose you’re right, Merriwell,” he said slowly, at length. “A -fellow looking on can get a much better idea of the real state of -affairs than one who is taking part in them. Perhaps I have been too -sharp and quick in the way I’ve handled the boys, but, somehow, it isn’t -my way to get around a man in the manner you suggest. If I’m running the -team, well and good. But if the fellows begin to question my orders, -it’s about time I stepped out.” - -“Nonsense!” Merriwell exclaimed. “You don’t get what I mean at all. I -hadn’t the slightest notion of your submitting to dictation from anybody -in your management. But there are more methods than one of getting your -way, and I think you’ll find that a little persuasion will go -considerably farther than downright bullyragging. You don’t mean it that -way, of course, but that’s how it appears to some of the men. Don’t -let’s have any more talk about your stepping out. Nobody’s going to do -that. This thing has got to be patched up or we’ll lose the game on -Saturday, the surest thing you know. All you’ve got to do is to take -things a little easier. Don’t try to run the whole team. It’s a wonder -you’re not a wreck now, the way you’ve tried to take everything on your -shoulders.” - -“But I can’t help worrying about things,” Tempest protested. “I can’t -help seeing where they don’t go right, and trying my best to remedy -them.” - -“You try too hard,” Dick retorted. “If you think it over, you’ll realize -that Kenny’s got brains enough to come out all right if he’s let alone. -You’re not going to try any more new stunts, and the boys have got the -others down to a point where their work couldn’t be very much improved -on. At least, try my plan, Don. Let Jack have his own way for a day or -so, and see if I’m not right—see if he doesn’t show results. He’s got to -play the game practically alone on Saturday. And it’s only fair that he -have his chance for the rest of the week.” - -In his eagerness to make his point of view plain, Dick had spoken rather -more emphatically than he intended. He realized this, and went on -quickly: - -“You mustn’t mind if I’m a bit sharp, Don. I haven’t minced matters -because I wanted to put things plainly to you. If we can only keep -things running smoothly and prevent such disagreements as this, there -isn’t a doubt in my mind that we’ll put it all over Harvard. But you -know yourself that with a team at loggerheads, when every fellow is -taking sides and questioning the ability of the man at the helm, there -isn’t a ghost of a show for good work. Think it over, old fellow, and -see if I’m not right. It’s only three days now before the game. See if -you can’t manage to hold in for that short time, and we won’t have any -more trouble.” - -Tempest looked up with a wry smile on his face. - -“I reckon I’ll have to,” he said slowly, “or there won’t be any team -left. How about Kenny, though? Will he come back?” - -Merriwell’s lips straightened out in a firm line. - -“I’ll see to him,” he said quickly. “I don’t think there’s any doubt -about that.” - -Fullerton gave a grunt of relief as they started toward the track house. -Thanks to Merriwell, it looked as if serious trouble had been averted. - -Jack Kenny did not appear at the training table that night. His absence -was not commented upon by the other men, who knew the reason quite well. - -There was an atmosphere of doubt and suspense over everything, which -persistently refused to be cleared away. Had the quarter back left the -team for good? Had he been fired off? What had taken place between -Merriwell, Tempest, and the coaches after the majority of the men had -left the field that afternoon? - -These and a dozen other vital questions were whispered by various -fellows to their neighbors; but no one felt like propounding them to the -principals in the affair, who did not volunteer any information. - -Directly the gloomy meal was over, Dick hurried across the campus to -Vanderbilt and ascended to Kenny’s rooms. He found the quarter back sunk -into the depths of a big chair, his face black as a thundercloud. - -He looked up quickly as Merriwell entered in response to his gruff -invitation, and shook his head emphatically. - -“Isn’t a bit of use, Dick,” he said positively. “You’re just wasting -your time.” - -Merriwell smiled. - -“You old idiot!” he exclaimed, dropping down in a chair opposite Kenny. -“Have you any idea what you’re talking about?” - -The quarter back pursed up his lips firmly. - -“You’re after me to make it up with that fool Tempest,” he returned -quickly. “But I won’t do it! I’ve stood about all of his lip that I’m -going to. It’s nearly drove me insane.” - -Dick crossed his legs and linked his hands loosely over one knee. - -“It was pretty trying, wasn’t it?” he said quietly. “But you know, old -man, Tempest didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just his way. He’s so keen -about the game Saturday, and so afraid we won’t get those plays into our -nuts, that he forgets everything else.” - -“The deuce he does!” retorted Kenny. “He’s done nothing but hammer and -pound at me since he came back on the field. You might think I didn’t -have any sense at all. It’s nag, nag, nag the whole time. ‘Do this, do -that,’ without giving a fellow a chance to do it himself. What am I -quarter for, I’d like to know, if I can’t use a little judgment? I’ve -played football as long as he has, and been on the varsity longer, yet -he treats me like a perfect kid. I tell you, Dick, I won’t stand for it -any longer. I—don’t care if I am—out of the game—Saturday.” - -Despite his accents of bravado, Kenny’s voice faltered a little at the -end. Merriwell leaned forward earnestly. - -“Jack, you don’t mean that,” he exclaimed; “you can’t mean it!” - -The quarter back nodded emphatically. - -“Yes, I do,” he said. - -But there was almost a sob in his voice. Angry and excited as he had -been up to this point, leaving the team seemed the only natural thing to -do. - -Merriwell’s face grew very serious. - -“You can’t realize what you’re saying, Jack,” he said, in a low, clear -voice. “You can’t possibly be in earnest when you talk about leaving the -team four days before the great game of the season. Surely you know, old -fellow, that such a step would give Harvard the victory as certain as -fate. We haven’t any one who could possibly take your place and run -things the way you do. Gillis hasn’t got the head. That isn’t soft soap; -it’s the truth.” - -Kenny’s slim fingers were busy tracing intricate patterns on the -upholstered arm of the chair. His eyes were averted. - -“Gillis could do what I’ve been doing for the past two weeks,” he -muttered, in a low tone. “Any dub could do that. Tempest don’t want a -fellow to think for himself.” - -“Did you ever try and put yourself in Don Tempest’s place, Jack?” Dick -asked swiftly. “Did you ever try and figure out what sort of a man he -was—what kind of a mind he has, I mean?” - -The quarter back shot a swift glance at Merriwell’s face and then -dropped his eyes. - -“He’s got a cursed domineering mind, I know that much,” he growled. - -“That’s the way it might appear sometimes,” Dick returned; “but you -haven’t got deep enough. He’s a fellow with splendid executive ability, -with a wonderfully far-seeing mind and immense talent for the strategy -of football. Surely you’ll admit that.” - -“He has doped out some pretty good stunts,” Kenny acknowledged -grudgingly. - -“Of course he has. He’s amazingly clever at that. And it’s about those -very stunts that he makes his great mistake. His mind is so wrapped up -in the results he wants to get that he doesn’t care how he gets them. -Moreover, he’s intolerant of advice——” - -“And mighty quick about giving it to others,” flashed Kenny viciously. - -Dick repressed a quick smile. The quarter back’s manner was so like that -of a peevish child that he could not help being amused. But the feeling -was only momentary. The situation was far too serious for trifling. - -“I know that,” he returned quickly, “and that’s what I told him this -afternoon.” - -“Humph!” grunted Kenny, looking up swiftly. “I’m glad you did that much. -I’m glad he realizes that somebody besides me has noticed the way he’s -been going on. What did he say to that?” - -“He hadn’t realized how far his enthusiasm and earnestness had carried -him,” Merriwell explained. “You see, Jack, Don is a fellow who commands -by sheer force of will. We have made him captain of the team, and he -expects to be obeyed implicitly and without question when he has decided -what he thinks is the right course. Another man might get his way by a -more sympathetic, tactful appeal; but Don can’t—he doesn’t know how. -That quick, sharp manner, which seems so imperious and domineering, is -unfortunate, but it’s just as much a part of his make-up as any -unpleasant traits of character which you or I possess are parts of ours, -and it’s just as hard to overcome. He doesn’t really mean anything by -it, and I think after the talk we had to-day he’ll do his very best to -modify it, if not cut it out altogether. I’ve been expecting you’d flare -up before this, Jack. If you hadn’t had great self-control, you would -have, for there was every provocation in the world; but you’ll find -things pleasanter from now on. You’re not thinking about deserting the -bunch now, are you?” - -Kenny hesitated an instant and then looked up at Merriwell, with a -rather shamefaced expression. - -“No, I reckon not,” he replied, in a low tone. “I don’t suppose I really -could have left the team in cold blood, but I was so blazing mad with -Tempest I was ready to do anything. Besides, I was pretty sure he’d fire -me off after what I said on the field.” - -Dick wisely refrained from telling him that such had been Tempest’s -first intention. Springing to his feet, he gave the quarter back a -hearty slap on the shoulders. - -“I knew you weren’t the sort to throw us down that way,” he smiled. -“Well, I must run along. Practice at three to-morrow.” - -“All right, I’ll be there,” Kenny said, with a return of his usual -cheerful manner; “only, Dick——” - -He paused, and Merriwell turned back from the door. - -“Yes?” he questioned. - -“You know I can’t promise to behave myself if Tempest starts in on his -old tricks,” the quarter back said hesitatingly. “I’ve held in so long -that my nerves are worn to a frazzle, and it wouldn’t take a whole lot -to start me going.” - -“Don’t worry,” Dick smiled. “I don’t think there’ll be any more trouble, -but if Don should get a little aggravating try and remember what I told -you. It isn’t really his fault, and he doesn’t mean anything by it. Just -grin and bear it. We all have our troubles, you know.” - -“Sure,” grinned Kenny. “Well, I’ll try my best. Good night.” - -When the door had closed behind Merriwell, Kenny dropped back into his -chair, a smile still on his lips. The change of heart which Dick had -brought about was a distinct relief to the quarter back. - -Looking at it in cold blood, he shuddered at his narrow escape. What an -awful thing it would have been if he had really thrown up his place on -the varsity. The thought of having the contest with Harvard take place, -and he not on the team, was appalling and sent an icy shiver up and down -his spine. That was the event to which they all looked forward eagerly -from the very beginning of the season. It was the culmination—the finish -of all things; and this game would indeed be the finish for him. It was -his last year. Never again would he have a chance to face the wearers of -the crimson. Not to have played on Saturday would have broken his heart. - -He was still turning the matter over in his mind when there came a quick -knock at the door. - -“Come in,” he called. - -The door swung open and Clarence Carr, blithe, brusque, and smiling, -entered the room. - -“Hello!” greeted Kenny, springing to his feet. “Come in and rest your -face and hands.” - -“Didn’t expect to see me quite so soon, did you?” smiled the older man. -“But I had an hour to spare, so I thought I’d take advantage of your -invitation and look you up.” - -“Glad you did,” Kenny returned cordially, taking the other’s overcoat -and hat. “Sit down and smoke one of your own cigars. That sounds pretty -inhospitable, but, not indulging in them, I don’t keep any on hand.” - -Carr dropped into a chair and took out a weed. - -“You didn’t put your foot into it the way one of the boys down in Wall -Street did the other day,” he remarked. “He’s a pretty gay bird -generally, but doesn’t happen to smoke. One of the brokers offered him a -cigar, which he declined with a virtuous air. ‘No, thanks,’ he says, -‘I’m not addicted to the vice.’ That naturally got the other fellow’s -goat. ‘It isn’t a vice,’ he snapped back, ‘or you probably would be.’ -The drinks were on Harry that time.” - -Kenny laughed and settled down comfortably on the couch. He had taken a -decided fancy to this fresh, breezy man of the world, who seemed to go -through life in such a jolly, good-tempered way. - -“Well, how’d things go to-day?” Carr asked presently, in a casual tone. -“Any more rows?” - -Kenny hesitated and a slow flush crept into his face. - -“We did have it pretty hot toward the end,” he confessed. “I flared up -and gave Tempest a piece of my mind, and then left the field just about -ready to throw the whole thing up.” - -A look of genuine anxiety flashed into Carr’s face. - -“Oh, thunder!” he exclaimed quickly. “You wouldn’t do that, would you? -Why, it would just about give Harvard the game!” - -“I’m not going to—no,” Kenny returned. “I’ve seen since then that I -couldn’t, of course; but I was so blooming mad at the time that I was -ready for anything.” - -The broker sank back in his chair with a sigh of relief. - -“Gee! You gave me a start,” he confessed. “I thought for a minute you -still meant that, and I certainly don’t want to see old Yale licked.” - -He took a meditative puff on his cigar and then went on rather casually: - -“Well, what was the trouble to-day? That captain of yours been -interfering again?” - -“He sure has,” Kenny returned. “It would take the patience of Job to put -up with him.” - -His face darkened at the remembrance of Tempest’s nagging. Though he had -promised Dick he would remain with the team, and was more than thankful -he had done so, his dislike for Tempest was not in the least lessened. -The feeling of soreness and sense of unfair treatment had grown so -gradually, and had been resolutely repressed for so long, that when it -finally broke forth into a flame it was far too strong to be quenched -readily, and, almost before he knew it, the quarter back found himself -narrating the whole unpleasant series of incidents to this new friend -who seemed so interested and so sympathetic. - -“Great Scott!” exclaimed Carr, when the story was finished. “I certainly -don’t blame you for raising a row. This Tempest must be a fearful -aggravating blade. What are you going to do about it?” - -“Well, I’ll have to put up with it, I reckon,” Kenny said hesitatingly. -“Merriwell says he gave him a good talking to and thinks he’ll hold his -jaw and keep his hands off for a while; but I tell you this much, if he -starts in with his nagging to-morrow I shan’t be responsible for what I -do.” - -“I should say not!” the broker exclaimed. “It’s a wonder to me you’ve -held in as long as you have. I’m afraid I’d have blown up when he first -started in to bulldoze.” - -“I felt like it, you’d better believe,” Kenny returned; “but I didn’t -want to start a row. That sort of thing doesn’t do any good to the work -of a team.” - -“No, of course not,” agreed Carr. - -He smoked for a few moments in thoughtful silence. - -“How’d he ever come to be made captain?” he mused presently. “I should -think your temperament was much better suited for the position than -his.” - -Kenny flushed with pleasure at this remark. - -“It was pretty close,” he answered; “but the fellows must have thought -he was better qualified. There’s certainly no doubt about his ability as -a strategist, or his thorough knowledge of the game.” - -“But that’s very far from being everything,” Carr said quickly. “The -captain of a football team, or any other, for that matter, should have -tact. He should know more than anything else, almost, how to handle his -men to get the best results from their working together as a single -unit. Apparently Tempest doesn’t possess this qualification, but, from -even the little I know of you, I should imagine you would have no such -difficulties as he has run up against in that regard. You don’t mind my -talking in this frank way, I hope. You see, I’m very much interested in -it all.” - -“No, of course not.” - -Again the quarter back felt that pleasant glow of satisfaction stealing -over him. Clarence Carr was evidently a man of keen insight and -understanding. It was gratifying to meet a fellow of such perfect -appreciation. - -The broker stayed somewhat later than he had at Phil Keran’s rooms the -night before. A good part of the time was spent in discussing the -football situation. Clarence Carr was a wonderfully clever man, and, -moreover, he had a distinct object in view. - -Little by little, his insidious words penetrated to Jack Kenny’s mind -and stayed there. It was all so cleverly done that the quarter back did -not realize for a single moment that there was anything underneath the -pleasant, jovial broker’s discourse, punctuated now and then by witty -stories and amusing anecdotes. - -But the result was that, by the time Carr took his leave, Kenny’s -dislike for Don Tempest had been fanned into a flame of hatred. His -sense of unfair treatment rankled bitterly, while his contempt for the -captain’s methods reached a point where he began to entertain serious -doubts of the fellow’s ability as a leader. Under such a man’s guidance, -he reflected, how was it possible that the team could work to any -advantage? Already the fellows were grumbling against his exactions. -What would it be like on the day of the game, when nervousness and -self-doubt is always rampant? - -Carr’s hearty “good night” floated upward from the stairs, and Kenny -closed the door with a sigh and stood thoughtfully by the table. Nothing -seemed sure, now. He was even growing doubtful of their ability to wrest -a victory from the crimson. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI - - THE SCHEME. - - -As Clarence Carr left Vanderbilt Hall he seemed to be in even higher -spirits than usual. Swinging briskly down the drive with a smile on his -face and humming a little tune under his breath, he passed through the -ornate gateway and turned to his left down Chapel Street. - -He had good reason to be satisfied with the evening’s work. He had been -even more successful than he had hoped. The ball had been started -rolling, and there was nothing left for him now but to watch it -carefully and make sure that it kept on its way. - -It took but a moment to reach the New Haven House, where he paused in -the lobby, keenly scrutinizing the occupants of the comfortable -leather-covered chairs. - -“Not here,” he murmured under his breath. “But I hardly expected he -would be.” - -Without delay, he passed on to the bar, and he had scarcely stepped -inside the doorway before his eyes fell upon the figure of the man for -whom he was looking. - -He was rather under medium height, and very fat. The striking, -violet-colored waistcoat covered a vast expanse of rotundity, and across -the front was looped a massive gold chain which looked almost like a -cable, hanging pendant from which, at the point where it passed through -the buttonhole, were half a dozen fobs, lockets, and diamond-studded -trinkets. - -In the scarf of violet silk, which just matched the waistcoat, sparkled -a large diamond. On several of the pudgy fingers were a plentitude of -rings—also set with diamonds. But the most remarkable feature of the man -was the face which topped the barrel-like figure, and which had the -grotesque appearance of being set directly upon the broad, check-clad -shoulders without the usual formality of a neck. - -It was smooth-shaven, round, and jolly, merging imperceptibly into the -bat-wing collar by a series of double chins. The eyes were small, -deep-set and blue, and had in them an expression of such infantile -innocence as to be almost incongruous. This, together with the soft, -smooth, pink-and-white skin, gave him the look of a plump, good-natured -cherub, who had allowed his taste for rather vivid colorings and effects -in the matter of dress to run riot. - -But J. Harry Edgerton was very far from living up to his appearance. -There was nothing whatever of the innocent cherub about his personality, -though he had often found it expedient and profitable to allow that -impression to prevail. It had been invaluable in leading strangers to -stay with him in a stiff poker game, under the impression that the -pouting, childlike look of dismay as he surveyed his hand was a true -reflection of the cards themselves. Too late they would discover that -Edgerton was simply bluffing, and they would retire from the game -sadder, wiser, and poorer men. - -J. Harry had thus acquired a manner which was in perfect accord with his -looks, and gradually this had become so fixed a habit that he rarely put -it aside, except in moments of great excitement or tension, when his -true self came to the surface. At other times he was the bland, jolly, -good-tempered and careless individual which his appearance implied. A -good deal of a sport, to be sure, but full of bright, witty stories, -which he narrated in a droll way that was irresistible, and altogether a -most desirable fellow to take a hand at poker or make a fourth at -bridge. - -His small, bright eyes lit up and a wide smile wreathed his fat -countenance as he saw Clarence Carr advancing toward his position at the -end of the bar. - -“Well, well,” he chuckled, holding out a plump, pink hand. “My old -college chum! How are you, Clarence, old boy? What’ll you take?” - -Carr grinned as he clasped the bejeweled fingers. - -“Glad to see you, old sport,” he returned. “Make it a rye high ball.” - -“Scotch for me,” nodded the stout cherub to the waiting attendant. “And -say—bring them over to a table. I want to rest my bones.” - -“Didn’t know they needed resting, Harry,” smiled Carr, as they crossed -the room to a little table in the corner. “They’re so bolstered up and -supported with blubber, you know.” - -With a sigh, Edgerton relapsed carefully into a creaking chair. - -“Same old joker, I see,” he chortled. “Wait till you tip the scales at -three hundred odd and you’ll feel the need of resting something. Whether -it’s bones or not, I can’t say.” - -The drinks being set before them, each man poured out a generous three -fingers and filled the glasses with carbonated. - -“Here’s how,” remarked Carr, raising his glass. - -The stout man nodded and took a long swallow. - -“Fair stuff,” he remarked, setting the glass down on the table. - -Then he looked keenly at his companion, his fat lips pursed up a little. - -“Well?” he questioned significantly. - -Carr took out a handkerchief and wiped his mouth deliberately. - -“I think it’s going to work,” he returned in a somewhat lower tone. -“Tempest and Kenny pretty near came to blows this afternoon. In fact, -Kenny was so mad that, for a while, he proposed leaving the team -altogether. That scared me when I first heard about it, but luckily Dick -Merriwell talked him into staying.” - -“Humph!” grunted Edgerton. “I should think that would have been the best -thing possible. There’d be no question then about the result of the -game.” - -“No, of course not,” Carr said quickly; “but in that case the odds would -be in Harvard’s favor instead of being five to six against her as they -are now.” - -Edgerton nodded comprehendingly. - -“I see,” he returned, taking another sip from his glass. “That’s true -enough. I’m not very well up on this football business, so I have to -trust to you. But are you sure you can work this boy so there’ll be -enough of a split in the team to make any material difference in their -playing.” - -Carr nodded. - -“I think so,” he answered. “He’s got a pretty hot temper, though he has -kept it under control until now. He’s a bit sore, too, that he wasn’t -elected captain instead of this Tempest. If the latter only keeps on -with his bullyragging, even a little, the game is ours. Already the team -is taking sides in the quarrel. Some are for Tempest, some for Kenny; -and that means reduced efficiency in their playing. I can keep the -quarter back stirred up, all right, and by Saturday they ought all to be -at sixes and sevens.” - -“Don’t he suspect your game?” queried the stout man. - -Carr laughed. - -“Trust me for that,” he returned. “He thinks I’m all for Yale winning. -He hasn’t a notion that there’s any motive in what I’ve said to him, -except the natural dislike of a man to see a good fellow thrown down.” -His face clouded swiftly and his heavy brows drew down into a frown. - -“Blow me if I’m stuck on the job, though, Edge!” he went on in a -petulant tone. - -The fat fellow’s smooth forehead puckered anxiously. - -“What’s the matter?” he asked quickly. “Not getting cold feet, I hope.” - -“Oh, it’s not that,” Carr exclaimed; “but the boy is such a decent -fellow and thinks I’m all to the good. I feel like a snake when I think -of what I’m trying to bring about. If Yale loses, it will be blamed on -him, in a way. Why, I believe the fellow really likes me!” - -“Tut, tut!” clucked Edgerton impatiently. “Never let your sympathies get -control. It’s better not to have any; but if you must, why, keep them -under, Clarence—keep them under. We’ve got to pull this through, or -where will we be? Don’t let’s have any more talk like that. What’s the -boy to you, anyhow? You’ll never see him again.” - -“Oh, I suppose not,” Carr said petulantly. “But I can’t help feeling the -way I do. Don’t worry, though. I’m not going to back out. I can’t afford -to. That last slump in the Street left me high and dry. But if it wasn’t -for that I’d never put my hand to a dirty deal like this.” - -An expression flashed across the fat fellow’s face which was far from -cherubic. - -“Cut it out, Clarence,” he snapped; “cut it out! Stop thinking about it, -or the whole thing will slump. Take a brace, for goodness sake! There’s -nothing to be so squeamish about. You’ve been in lots worse things than -this.” - -“I know that,” returned the broker quickly. “Don’t worry, I tell you. -I’m not going to back out. I’ve simply got to follow it through to the -end, or we’ll both be stony.” - -The placid look returned to Edgerton’s countenance and, with a sigh of -relief, he picked up his glass and drained it. - -“That’s right,” he murmured, setting it down; “that’s sensible. And now -about the bets. When can we start placing them? That’s where my work -begins, and I don’t want to be losing valuable time. How about -to-morrow?” - -“Better wait until Thursday,” Carr returned thoughtfully. “That’ll give -you plenty of time, and I’ll be able to see how things go on the field -to-morrow afternoon. Of course, they won’t let me watch the practice, -but I can sound Kenny afterward. I’ve got him now so he loosens up and -confides everything to me. - -“Well, Thursday it is, then,” chuckled Edgerton, his good humor quite -restored. “That’ll give me two full days to make a killing in New York, -and Saturday morning to do a little placing here. Let’s have another -drink. Same for you?” - -The broker nodded, and Edgerton struck the bell sharply. The high balls -were ordered and swiftly brought. By the time Carr had finished, his -life took on a rosier hue. His momentary scruples had quite vanished, -and he flung himself into the game with renewed zest, laying out an -effective campaign for the morrow. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII - - THE BREACH WIDENS. - - -Dick Merriwell appeared on the athletic field the next afternoon in a -somewhat anxious state of mind. After the straight talk he had given -Tempest the day before, and his subsequent interview with Kenny, he -hoped that things would go smoothly, but he knew that nothing was ever -certain. - -He was too good a judge of character to imagine that a mere quarter of -an hour’s talk, no matter how emphatic it was, could be the means of -changing utterly the methods and point of view of a fellow like Tempest. -He felt sure that the captain of the varsity would do his best to follow -the advice which had been given him, but whether he would succeed was -quite another matter. - -He had less anxiety in regard to Kenny. He felt that the quarter back -was sincere in his desire to have peace and harmony in the team, and -after their talk last night he was sure that the hot-tempered, -good-hearted chap would even put up with a little of Tempest’s nagging -without breaking out again. - -But, strangely enough, the practice had barely begun, before he found -prevailing a condition which was quite the opposite from what he had -confidently supposed would be the case. - -Almost at once he perceived that Tempest had a firm grip on himself and -was doing his best to preserve harmony, whereas Kenny acted as if he had -a chip on his shoulder which he was almost anxious for the captain to -knock off. - -He was as nearly sullen as such a naturally good-tempered fellow could -be, taking his part in the game in a perfunctory manner without his -usual snap and vim; and, instead of going ahead on his own hook with the -various plays which had to be practiced, he was constantly pausing and -asking Tempest’s advice in a pointed, sarcastic manner which would have -driven anybody wild. - -Naturally the latter got hot under the collar. Here he was straining -every effort to keep the peace, and Kenny, instead of meeting him -halfway, was doing his best to aggravate him and provoke a verbal -battle. - -The result was that, before an hour had passed, the two were at daggers’ -points, and a feeling of unrest and uneasiness had come over the whole -team, which seriously interfered with its efficiency, and prevented it -from doing anything like the good work it should have done. - -Merriwell was puzzled as well as decidedly angry. What in the world -possessed Kenny? What had come over him since their talk of the previous -evening, when the quarter back had shown such a very evident and sincere -desire to see things go well, and, more than that, had promised that he -would do his best to that end. - -Instead of keeping his word, he had gone to quite the opposite extreme -and was very evidently bent on rousing Tempest to a fury. Merriwell -could not understand it, and he was so angry with the little quarter -back that it would have given him the greatest pleasure to take the -sulky fellow by the shoulders and shake him, as one would a spoiled -child. - -Luckily Tempest refused to be dragged into a verbal encounter. It was -evident to him that Kenny was deliberately working to that end, and, his -blood aroused, the captain strained every effort to keep a grip on -himself. It was one of the hardest things he ever did. His words grew -sharp and snappy, his face flushed and angry; but he tried to ignore the -quarter back, and managed to get through the afternoon without an open -clash. - -Dick saw all this with regret, and, also, with an infinite admiration -for Tempest’s surprising self-control; and, as soon as the practice was -over, he stepped to the captain’s side. - -“That was bully, Don,” he said, in a low tone. “You held in splendidly. -But that little rat ought to be turned up and spanked. I never saw -anything so aggravating in my life.” - -“Aggravating!” foamed Tempest, who, now that he was alone with -Merriwell, gave full vent to his fury. “Aggravating isn’t the word for -it! By thunder, Dick, it was all I could do to keep my hands off the -little devil! I wouldn’t go through another afternoon like this for a -thousand dollars!” - -Merriwell’s face wore a puzzled look. - -“I can’t think what’s got into him,” he said thoughtfully. “I had a long -talk with him last night, and he promised to stop his foolishness and -behave himself.” - -“And you see how he’s kept that promise!” Tempest said bitterly. “He’s -worse than I ever knew him to be. Honestly, old fellow, I can’t go on -this way. I’d go off my nut. Look here, Dick, let me hand in my -resignation and you take my place. You can pull things together and do -something with them. They’ll do anything you want them to, but if I try -to stick it out Heaven knows what will happen. Another day like this and -they’ll all be up in open rebellion.” - -“Great Scott, man!” Dick cried aghast. “Why, you’re crazy! The idea of -changing captains at such a time as this! It couldn’t be done, even if -I’d consider it—which I won’t for a minute. You’ve got to keep on, Don, -and pull things through. And we’ve got to win that game Saturday. It -would be better for Kenny to go than you, but we can’t afford to lose -either of you. You must stick it out, old fellow. I’ll see Jack again -and give him fits. He’s got something on his mind which wasn’t there -last night, and I mean to find out what it is.” - -Without delay he proceeded to the track house and hustled into his other -clothes. He couldn’t tackle the quarter back in the midst of the crowd -who thronged the place, but he meant to catch him as he was leaving. - -Quick as he was, however, he barely managed to get into his things -before he saw his man hurrying out of the door. - -“Jack!” he called, snatching up his overcoat and hat. “Wait a minute.” - -Kenny turned rather reluctantly. It almost seemed as if he wanted to -avoid Merriwell, but the latter did not propose to let him get away. - -“What’s your hurry?” he inquired, as he joined the other outside the -door. - -“Oh, nothing,” returned Kenny, his eyes averted. “I just wanted to get -back to the dorm, that’s all.” - -They were out in the street by this time, and, as they turned and walked -along the high board fence, Dick looked his companion squarely in the -face. - -“What in the mischief has got into you, Jack?” he asked quickly. “You -told me you’d behave, and yet you’ve acted like a perfect kid all -afternoon.” - -Kenny hesitated. - -“I can’t stand that Tempest!” he burst out the next moment. “He makes me -daft.” - -“Makes you daft,” repeated Dick. “Why, you’re the one who makes him, and -all the rest of us, hot, going around with a sour face and a chip on -your shoulder. If I’d been Don I’d have felt like giving you a good -thrashing. You never gave him a chance to be decent.” - -The quarter back looked a little sheepish. - -“I knew he couldn’t be,” he returned quickly, “so I just got in my licks -first. I thought I’d give him a dose of his own medicine and see how he -liked it.” - -“You little idiot!” Merriwell retorted. “Do you know what you’re going -to do if you keep on this way? You’re going to lose the game for us -Saturday. If you can’t take a brace, we’ll be licked as sure as fate, -and there won’t be a person to blame for it but yourself.” - -Kenny’s face flushed and he made a quick, dissenting motion with one -hand. - -“Look here, Dick,” he protested. “That’s putting it pretty strong, isn’t -it?” - -“It’s a fact,” Merriwell returned emphatically. - -His words seemed to sober Kenny and bring him to a partial realization -of the gravity of the situation. All the way back to the campus Dick -kept up his argument, and by the time they got off the car at Church and -High Streets he had brought the quarter back into a contrite and fairly -repentant frame of mind. - -At the same time, it seemed to him that Kenny was not so pliable as he -had been the night before. It had been harder to bring him to a -realization of the error of his ways. Somehow, Dick felt almost as if -there was a counter influence which was pulling against his -own—something which was encouraging Kenny in his rebellion and egging -him on in the disagreement with Tempest. - -What it could be he could not imagine. Who among the quarter back’s -friends or acquaintances could encourage him in his fatal folly? For any -sane person must realize that if the fellow persisted in his course a -victory on Saturday would be seriously imperiled. - -He was turning this over in his mind all through supper, and afterward, -walking along Church Street with Brad, Keran, and several others, it was -still puzzling him. - -All at once his eyes fell on Kenny himself, walking down the street on -the other side, in earnest conversation with a slim, brisk man of about -thirty. - -“Who’s that fellow with Kenny?” he asked quickly. - -They all glanced over the way, and Phil Keran answered the question. - -“Clarence Carr,” he said readily. “He’s Archie Carr’s brother. He came -in to see me the other night, and Kenny met him there. Nice chap, too. -Crazy about football. He played at Brown. He and Jack seem to hit it off -pretty well.” - -Dick took in the man with a swift, appraising glance. He remembered -Archie Carr perfectly as a good football player and red-hot Yale man. -There was absolutely no reason why he should question his brother’s -loyalty and integrity, but still a tiny germ of doubt was generated in -his mind at that moment—something which sprang into being quite without -rhyme or reason, and which persisted in remaining despite its seeming -absurdity and incongruity. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XXVIII - - IN DESPERATE STRAITS. - - -Twenty-four hours later Dick Merriwell was confident that some malign -influence was at work on Jack Kenny’s mind combating his own strenuous -efforts to bring about concord between him and Don Tempest. Some one was -doing his level best to keep the quarter back constantly stirred up in -his ire against the captain of the varsity, so that it required every -bit of Merriwell’s patience and perseverance to prevent an open break. - -He had arrived at this conclusion simply from a keen sense of -observation. He knew Jack Kenny well enough to be perfectly sure that he -was not the sort of fellow to harbor a grudge to the extent which he was -fostering this one. He was a man who would be apt to flare up in a swift -outburst of wrath, but it was not at all like him to develop this -sullen, sneering, backbiting streak which had been apparent for the past -few days. - -Some one must be egging him on; some one was deliberately encouraging -him to combat Tempest at every possible point; and that person must be -going about his underhand work with amazing skill and forethought. His -method of procedure must be so insidious that Kenny himself had no idea -he was being worked; for at no time did Dick question for an instant the -quarter back’s loyalty to his team or to his college. - -Who this some one was, Merriwell had no idea. It must be a man who -either had a personal grudge against Tempest himself, or else had some -vital reason for bringing about an open rupture in the Yale team before -the great contest of the season. - -Dick could not close his eyes to the fact that this last condition of -affairs was in a fair way to be brought about unless something speedily -intervened to prevent it. Little by little the fellows had been taking -sides in the unfortunate disagreement between the captain and the -quarter back. - -The strain of having to keep a constant watch on his tongue was -beginning to tell on Tempest and showed in a loosening of the grip he -had on the team and a resulting decrease in its efficiency. - -Quick to notice this, many of the fellows blamed it altogether upon -Tempest. They began to question his ability among themselves and wonder -whether his methods were right and whether he was going to lead them to -victory on Saturday. - -Doubt and hesitation and suspicion were rife on all sides. It would take -but the merest breath to add discouragement to their number; and once a -team starts in with a doubt as to its ability to win the handicap -against it is tremendous. - -Merriwell did his best to instill encouragement and hope into their -failing spirits, but, under the peculiar condition of affairs, he was -almost helpless to do any good in that line. Kenny had started the ball -rolling, and he was the only one who could stop its progress. If he -could only be brought to his senses and grant to Tempest his cheerful, -willing obedience and coöperation, the trouble might possibly be -stopped. - -Men would see that his confidence in the captain was restored, and, in -their turn, might be inspired to renewed hope and consequent endeavor. - -To this end, therefore, Dick bent every effort; but he was unsuccessful. -Kenny listened to his words, but was not convinced; and Merriwell knew -that some one else was working against him. - -By Friday night he was almost certain that this some one was Clarence -Carr, who, for the past few days, had been spending every possible -moment in the company of the quarter back. He was the only unknown -quantity among Kenny’s acquaintance. The others were all beyond -reproach, and at last, incredible as the thought was, Dick became -convinced that Carr was doing his very utmost to bring about a rupture -in the Yale team, so that Harvard would gain the victory. - -What the broker’s motive was he could not guess. There were a dozen -reasons why he might wish to bring such a thing about, and Dick did not -waste much time over that. The great thing was to convince Kenny that -Carr was meddling, and that he had an ulterior motive for wishing the -defeat of Yale; and this was almost impossible. - -The man’s manner was frank and open. He spoke enthusiastically of Yale’s -chances for victory, even offering to lay a little money on the blue. He -referred often, though with apparent casualness, to his brother’s -intimate connection with the university, and with football; and more -than once he had been heard to wish that he had taken his degree at New -Haven instead of Providence. - -Dick easily found an opportunity of meeting him; for he seemed to have -no friends in town except the college boys, with whom he had grown to be -rather popular. He found the fellow a keen, shrewd man of the world, -likewise an interesting and amusing talker, and possessed of a certain -degree of attractiveness. It seemed almost incredible that such a man as -he—polished, refined, and gentlemanly—could stoop to the underhand -methods which Merriwell suspected. And yet, if he were not to blame for -influencing Kenny, who was? - -Having met Carr, Merriwell realized full well the utter impossibility of -convincing the quarter back of his double-dealing, without absolute -proof. And where was he to get that proof, when all he had to go by was -his own intuition? - -Supper on Friday night was a dismal meal. The practice that afternoon -had been particularly dispiriting and lacking in vim and go. Fullerton -had bellowed himself hoarse and had been reduced to open wrath at the -wretched showing made by many of the team. Don Tempest, white-faced and -with set teeth, had struggled desperately to prevent himself giving way -to a furious outburst of rage at the aggravating Kenny, who seemed even -more possessed of the devil than usual. - -Everything seemed to be at sixes and sevens, and it was scarcely to be -wondered that gloomy, discouraged faces were the rule that night, as the -fellows thought of what the morrow might bring forth and groaned -inwardly. - -Merriwell, Buckhart, and one or two others tried to combat the -persistent gloom, but without avail. They, themselves, were not feeling -any too sure about things, and their cheering words were not of the most -convincing order. - -Consequently, the meal went on to a silent finish; and then, as chairs -were pushed back, and the men arose, Tempest stopped them with a quick -gesture. - -“Just a minute, fellows,” he said, in a low tone. “There’ll be a short -meeting of the team and subs in the gym at eight o’clock. Please be -there, all of you.” - -At Merriwell’s suggestion there was to be a last effort made to rally -the failing spirits of the men and make them realize how grave was the -situation. It was all he could think of at the moment, and he meant to -take the floor himself and bring all his power of eloquence to bear to -try and brace them up. But, first, he intended to have another whack at -Kenny and see if by hook or crook he couldn’t bring him to his senses. - -“If I could only prove something against that traitor, Carr,” he said to -himself, as he crossed the campus with Brad. - -Suddenly he gave a start. - -“By Jove!” he exclaimed aloud. “I might try that!” - -“Try what?” inquired Buckhart. “What are you talking about, anyhow, -pard?” - -“Nothing much,” Merriwell answered, as he quickened his pace. “I was -just thinking.” - -He did not speak another word until they reached the rooms. The moment -the door was closed he dashed into the closet, and, fumbling around for -a few minutes in the dark, presently emerged with an armful of clothes -and a flat, oblong box. - -With wondering eyes the Texan watched him swiftly strip off his suit and -array himself in the one he had resurrected from the depths of the -closet. With ever-growing curiosity, he saw his chum open the box and -take out a jar of cold cream and some sticks of grease paints. Then he -could contain himself no longer. - -“What in thunder are you up to now?” he exploded. - -“I’m going to make a last effort to bring that little idiot Kenny -around,” he replied. “If it succeeds, I’ll tell you all about it. If it -don’t——” - -He finished the sentence with a shrug of his shoulders and caught up a -stick of grease paint. Brad’s face was a picture of bewilderment as he -watched the rapid transformation going on before his eyes. A touch here, -a line there, worked wonders. Some false eyebrows, skillfully attached, -made the disguise still more perfect. - -At last, throwing down the hand glass in which he had been inspecting -the whole effect, Dick snatched up a disreputable derby from the chair, -and, clapping it on his head, tore open the door and disappeared, -leaving his chum staring at the closed portal in a dazed fashion. - -“Well, I’ll—be—hanged!” he exclaimed presently. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XXIX - - DICK MAKES A DISCOVERY. - - -J. Harry Edgerton had spent such a busy day in town that he missed the -Merchants’ Limited and was obliged to take the 5:30 train from the Grand -Central, which did not get him to New Haven until after seven. It was, -in fact, exactly twenty-five minutes past when he stepped out of the cab -at the entrance to the New Haven House and made his way leisurely into -the lobby. - -As his smiling, cherubic countenance loomed like a full moon in the -doorway, Clarence Carr, who had been waiting impatiently for some time, -stepped quickly forward. - -“Well!” he said, rather shortly, “I expected you an hour ago, at the -latest. What under the sun kept you so long?” - -“Patience, my sweet Dromio,” gurgled the fat fellow, with a pacifying -wave of his hand. “Don’t fly at me like an angry cat. All is well. -Better than we hoped for, in fact. But let us lubricate. I cannot—simply -cannot—orate in my present parched condition of throat. It feels like -the desert of Sahara—I give you my word it does.” - -The broker’s face relaxed considerably. - -“Well, come along, then,” he returned. “I could manage one or two -myself.” - -He linked his arm with that of Edgerton, and together they passed into -the bar and took their seats at one of the small tables. An attendant -was quickly summoned and brought glasses, bottles, and a siphon. Then he -withdrew, leaving them on the table at a sign from Edgerton. - -Two high balls were mixed and promptly swallowed. Then J. Harry leaned -back in his chair with a contented sigh and took a comprehensive survey -of the room. - -There were half a dozen men congregated at the other end of the bar, -while farther along, at a point nearly opposite their table, a rather -seedy individual, with flushed face and dented derby, had just slouched -in and ordered gin. The stout gentleman saw the drink poured out, with a -grimace of disgust. - -“Pah!” he exclaimed. “Such a coarse drink, and so extremely deleterious -to the lining of the stomach! Never indulge in crude gin, Clarence. That -fellow is half seas over as it is. He’ll be put out directly.” - -He watched the man drain his glass at a swallow and barely touch his -lips with the chaser. Then, dismissing the fellow from his mind, he -returned to the matter in hand, first, however, mixing himself another -high ball, which he consumed in leisurely sips while he talked. - -He would have been somewhat astonished had he known that the object of -his criticism at the bar had performed a swift substitution of the -glasses under his very eye, and, instead of drinking the gin, he had -swallowed the chaser; and presently, when his order was repeated, the -full glass of gin was dumped into the slops by the bartender under the -impression that it was water, and another glassful poured out. - -“Splendid success,” Edgerton chuckled. “I laid out every cent I could -beg, borrow, or steal, at bully odds. I should say about two thousand -odd, including everything. Now, if you’ve only done your part as well, -we’ll be in Easy Street this time to-morrow night.” - -Carr’s eyes sparkled. - -“Great!” he exclaimed. “Don’t be afraid, Edge. I’ve got things fixed so -that the whole team is at loggerheads. I’ve worked Kenny every minute I -could be with him, and kept that grouch of his nursed as if it was a -precious hothouse flower. The poor fool has never suspected me for an -instant. Thinks I have a sweetly sympathetic nature. I think there’s -hardly a doubt that we’ll win out, and then for another try at that game -of the Bluebell mining stock.” - -Edgerton chuckled, and raised the glass to his lips. - -“Good! We’ll place a few little bets here and there to-morrow among the -confiding village people, providing, of course, they don’t insist on -being shown the coin. Altogether, it ought to be a pretty nice little -rake-off.” - -The man at the bar seemed to have had enough gin. With unsteady gait and -leering eye, he passed the table and made his way toward the door. As he -reached it, he caught his foot and nearly fell. The next moment he had -lurched out into the darkness. - -On the pavement outside a surprising transformation took place. The -fellow straightened up suddenly, and, with a sweep of his hand, pushed -his hat up from where it hung over one ear. Then he started down the -street at a rapid walk, which was almost a run. There was not the -slightest sign of intoxication in his gait. - -“By Jove!” he muttered. “That’s their game, is it? Thank Heaven I’ve -found it out! What a pair of blacklegs!” - -He glanced swiftly at a near-by clock. It was almost eight. - -“Gee!” he exclaimed, under his breath. “I’ve got to catch him before he -leaves for the meeting.” - -The next instant he turned into one of the gates of Vanderbilt, dashed -up the drive, and cleared the steps at a bound. Upstairs he went, -lickety-split, and reached Kenny’s floor just as the quarter back opened -the door and stepped out. - -“Wait a minute, Jack,” he said quickly. “I’ve got something to tell -you.” - -“The deuce you have!” Kenny growled. “Who in thunder are you, anyhow?” - -For an instant Dick had forgotten the disguise. No wonder the quarter -back didn’t know him! - -“It’s Merriwell,” he said, smiling. “Quick! Give me a towel and some -water. I’ll get rid of this stuff while we talk. I’ve got my cold-cream -jar in my pocket.” - -Pushing the bewildered Kenny before him, he entered the room and closed -the door. - -“Hustle, boy!” he exclaimed. “A wet towel first, and then we’ll go at -the other.” - -Still dazed, but under the influence of Dick’s dominating personality, -Kenny brought the moistened towel, which Merriwell snatched from his -hands. Already he had rubbed cold cream over his face. With the first -vigorous rub off came the eyebrows and most of the paint. Kenny gasped -as the familiar face of his friend appeared swiftly and strangely. Then -Dick plunged into his story, for there was no time to lose. - -“This Clarence Carr,” he began rapidly; “you’ve been pretty chummy with -him lately, haven’t you?” - -Kenny looked astonished. - -“Why, he’s been in to see me several——” - -“Exactly,” Dick cut in. “Talked football a lot, didn’t he? Said you were -being badly used on the team, I’ll bet? Perhaps he said you should have -been captain?” - -The quarter back’s jaw dropped at this volley of questions. A rush of -color stained his face. - -“Why, how—how—did you——” - -“Never mind how I found out,” Dick flashed back. “Jack, he’s a crooked -scoundrel! He’s been egging you on to buck against Tempest for the sole -purpose of ruining the team and giving the game to Harvard.” - -The flush died out of Kenny’s face, leaving it pale and set. His eyes -flashed indignantly. - -“How dare you say that, Merriwell?” he exclaimed angrily. “He couldn’t -do such a thing. Why, his own brother went to Yale and played on the -varsity!” - -“I know all that, but it’s true just the same,” Dick flung back. “Would -you believe it if you knew he and a pal of his had put up over two -thousand dollars on Harvard?” - -“But how could he?” expostulated the quarter back. “He’s crazy for us to -win. He’s even——” - -“I know all that,” Merriwell returned swiftly; “but this very night—not -ten minutes ago—I heard the truth from his very lips. He was talking -over it with his pal in the bar of the New Haven House. I was there, -made up this way. I had suspected him before. They didn’t know me, of -course. The bets were all placed in New York. They’re no better than a -couple of crooks. Listen!” - -Swiftly, a little brokenly, but quite clearly, he poured into Kenny’s -ears the story of what he had discovered. The quarter back’s face was -pale and his eyes horror-stricken when the brief recital was finished. -For an instant he could not speak. - -“His very words,” repeated Dick. “I’ve worked Kenny every minute I could -be with him, and kept that grouch of his nursed as if it was a precious -hothouse flower. The poor fool never suspected me for an instant. Thinks -I have a sweetly sympathetic nature.” - -Suddenly the slim fellow’s face grew purple. - -“Blazes!” he almost shouted. “The thundering, double-faced liar! I’ll -smash up that face of his so his own brother won’t know him! I’m going -down there this minute. I don’t care where he is.” - -Without waiting to pick up his hat, he started toward the door, his -fists clenched and his eyes wild with rage. Dick caught his arm in a -grip of iron. - -“Stop, Jack!” he said sternly. “You’ve got something more important than -that to do.” - -Kenny struggled to release his arm. - -“Let me go, Dick!” he pleaded. “The dirty scoundrel used me! I’ve got -to——” - -“You’ve got to come to the gym with me,” Merriwell broke in swiftly. -“You’ve got to set things right with Tempest. The fellows are all in a -blue funk because of what you’ve done. They don’t believe in Don any -more, and you’ve got to make them believe. I don’t care what you do to -this sneak after to-morrow, but until then your duty is to Yale. I tell -you, Jack, the very game is at stake, and you’re the only man who can -stir the fellows up and give them back the confidence in Tempest which -you have taken away. Perhaps it’s too late now. I don’t know, but you’ve -got to try.” - -While he was speaking, Kenny’s face grew calmer, and into his eyes crept -a look which was like fear. What if he had spoiled Yale’s chances for -victory by his idiotic behavior? What if it were too late for -reparation? A bitter pang, sharp as a dagger point, pierced him to the -heart. He saw himself branded as a traitor to the _alma mater_ which he -loved so well, and for whose success he would have willingly given up -his last breath. The thought sobered him like a dash of icy water and -made him forget everything but the desperate need for reviving the -drooping spirits of the team and restoring their confidence in Don -Tempest, the man he had wronged. - -The quarter back ceased his struggles instantly. - -“You’re right, Dick,” he said, in a strained voice. “I’ve been a blind, -beastly fool; but I understand now. I’ll do my best to straighten things -out with the boys. It can’t be too late—it simply can’t!” - -He looked imploringly at Merriwell, whose face was very serious. - -“I hope not,” the latter said soberly. “Lost confidence is a pretty hard -thing to restore, sometimes but we’ve got to do it to-night. Come, let’s -hurry.” - -Without a word, Kenny snatched up his hat, switched off the light, and -together the two hastened down the stairs and out into the street. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XXX - - THE MORNING OF THE GAME. - - -Breakfast at the training table the next morning was a strange meal, to -which the fellows loitered in at whatever hour best pleased them. Many -showed signs of restless slumber, and the trainer was as watchful as an -old hen with a brood of chickens. - -The principal topic of conversation was the surprising shift about at -the meeting last night on the part of Jack Kenny. He and Merriwell had -appeared in the gym so late that some of the fellows were about to sally -forth and hunt them up. They saw at once that he was very much wrought -up and excited, though Merriwell seemed as calm and steady as usual. - -After the meeting was called to order, the quarter back got on his feet -and made a really impassioned speech in which he acknowledged what a -fool he had been in questioning for a moment Tempest’s ability as -captain, then besought the fellows to forget how he had been behaving -for the past week and do their best to pull things through to-morrow. - -There was no doubt of his earnestness and sincerity, and great was the -speculation as to what had happened to bring about the change of heart. -Many laid it to Merriwell, but no one could be certain; for Kenny made -no explanation beyond acknowledging that he had been in the wrong. - -Dick followed him with a few well-chosen, emphatic words, in which he -pointed out the need of organized teamwork, and cautioned every man to -put aside all thoughts of personal glory and work with all his might for -Yale. - -His tone was hopeful and encouraging. He did not allow the fellows to -think for an instant that he had any doubts of their ultimate success, -and the results of the meeting were distinctly for the better. - -Notwithstanding this, however, there were many signs of nervousness and -unrest the following morning. There always are on the day of a great -game. Men who never give a thought of their ability to win out at any -other time are seized with all sorts of absurd doubts and fears when the -crucial moment is so near at hand, which luckily vanish the instant they -line up on the field. It is only the long, anxious period of waiting -which is so trying. - -Those who had Saturday morning recitations attended them, though it is -quite safe to say that they were little benefited thereby. The others -were sent out to the field, where they went through a short, brisk -signal practice. - -Kenny showed up splendidly at this, and, as Dick watched him, he wished -to Heaven that he might have been brought to his senses before the -eleventh hour. It would have been so much better in every way. For -Merriwell could not help but feel a certain amount of worry and -uneasiness as to how the men would show up in the afternoon. Though he -preserved a smiling face and confident demeanor, he was inwardly not a -little doubtful of results. He knew, better, perhaps, than any one else, -how difficult it is to restore confidence once lost. Kenny’s awakening -had had a good effect, but whether it would prove a lasting one time -alone would show. - -So much depended on how the game went at the start, and he resolved to -strain every effort to prevent Harvard from scoring in the first -quarter. - -The short practice over, the fellows trotted a few times about the -gridiron and then returned to the campus, where they wandered about, -awaiting the arrival of the Harvard boys, who were momentarily expected. - -Dick was detained by a consultation with Fullerton and Tempest, which -took place in his rooms. He did not, in fact, realize how the time had -flown, and was consequently surprised when the door was burst open -unceremoniously and his old friend Dale Sparkfair, now captain of the -Harvard varsity, rushed into the room. - -“Richard, my boy, how are you?” he exclaimed, advancing with -outstretched hands. “You’re a sight for sore eyes!” - -Dick’s face lit up with pleasure as he gripped Sparkfair’s fingers. - -“Great, old fellow,” he smiled. “How’s yourself? Haven’t seen you since -that day last summer on the lake when we had a pick-up game of ball.” - -“And you came so blamed near being licked,” the Harvard man put in. “You -were pretty bad, that day, old man. So very punky that I got careless -and let you in. Of course, had I been in my usual form, such a thing -would never have happened. I hope you’re prepared for a drubbing this -afternoon? Despite my native modesty, I am forced to admit that we have -collected such a team as Harvard—or, I may say, any other college—never -before turned out.” - -His blue eyes were mirthful and his lips curved in a smile. - -Dick laughed. - -“It’s a shame to disappoint you, but we’ve just about made up our minds -to take the trick ourselves. You know Tempest and Fullerton, don’t you?” - -Dale turned and shook hands with the two men. - -“Sure thing,” he said. “Met Tempest last year, and everybody knows old -Bill. So you think you’re going to do us? What a shock you’ll have. It -almost makes me sad to think of it. The Philistines may walk up and down -the earth, puffing out their chests and making a mighty noise of brazen -trumpets, but great will be their fall. _Timothy_, tenth-sixteenth.” - -“Same old fake Scripture quoting,” Dick smiled. “Stolen from Blessed -Jones, too. One would never suppose you were such a religious duck to -look at you, Spark.” - -“Many of my best qualities are kept hidden from the vulgar eye,” Dale -returned airily. “Say, I hear you boys have doped out a great line of -tricks. Got something up your sleeves for us, have you?” - -“We have,” Dick said promptly. - -“You don’t say! What’s the nature of it, if I may ask? Perhaps you -object to putting me wise, though.” - -“No objection whatever,” Dick answered gravely. “It’s muscle.” - -“Aren’t you the cute thing!” grinned Sparkfair. “Never mind. You’re safe -to get licked, secret or no secret. Where’s that bucking broncho of a -Buckhart? I’d like to shake his big paw.” - -“Down on the campus somewhere,” Dick answered. “We’ll go down and look -him up. We’re all through here.” - -“Plots, I suppose,” Dale remarked, glancing from Tempest to Fullerton. -“Too bad, but they won’t do you a particle of good.” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XXXI - - ON THE FIELD. - - -High up against a fair blue sky, studded with fleecy clouds, streamed a -mammoth banner of blue bearing in its centre a great white Y—a flare of -intense color visible from afar over the topmost branches of the empty -elms, and a beacon toward which the stream of spectators set their -steps. - -Derby Avenue was filled from curb to curb with a slowly moving -procession of motor cars, horse-drawn vehicles of all kinds, street -cars, loaded to the very steps with a laughing, chattering mob of -humanity, all making their way toward the athletic field. - -As two o’clock approached, the throngs at the gates moved faster, -swaying and pushing past the ticket takers and streaming out onto the -field toward the stands already piled high with enthusiastic humanity. -Under the great flag stretched a long bank of somber grays and blacks, -brightened here and there by lighter feminine apparel, and everywhere -was a multitude of smaller fluttering flags of blue, which looked from a -little distance as if the big banner had dripped its dye upon the crowd -beneath. - -Violets were everywhere. Great masses of them pinned upon the -tailor-made coats of charming, eager girls. Smaller bunches in the -buttonholes of their escorts; and their perfume wafted out over the -field, filled the air with a sweet, penetrating odor which was far more -like that of a day in June than one in brisk, blustering late November. - -Opposite, the rival tiers of crowded seats were picked out in vivid -crimson, and between stretched a smooth expanse of russet-hued turf, -ribbed with white lines that glared in the afternoon sun. - -The great band played blithely; the thousands of eager spectators -talked, laughed, or shouted ceaselessly; and the cheering sections were -loudly contending for vocal supremacy. - -Suddenly onto the field trotted a little band of men in blue sweaters -with white Y’s; and quite as suddenly the Yale stands arose and the -Harvard cheers were blotted out by a mighty chorus that swept from end -to end of the structure and thundered impressively across the field. - -“Yale! Yale! Yale! Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah! Yale! -Yale! Yale!” - -It was repeated over and over again, and then the crimson-clad youths -trotted into view and it was Harvard’s turn to make a noise. - -The substitutes of both teams retired to the side lines, and the players -who were to start the game warmed up. The cheering on the stands gave -place to songs which drowned the music of the band, until, at length, -three persons, a youth in blue, a youth in crimson, and a man in -everyday attire, met in the middle of the field and watched a coin spin -upward in the sunlight and fall to the ground. - -Then swiftly the contending forces took their positions, the linesmen -and timekeeper hurried forward and the great stands were almost stilled. - -Yale had the ball and the west goal. Baulsir placed the pigskin to his -liking and drew back. Tempest shouted a last word of warning. The -referee raised his whistle. - -The next instant it sounded shrilly, the ball sped away, and the game -began. - -Within the first five minutes it became evident to the excited thousands -that the game was to be a desperate struggle from start to finish. -Sparkfair had not been altogether jesting when he told Merriwell that -his team was the best which had ever been turned out at Cambridge. What -little they lacked in weight, compared with the brawny Yale line, they -made up in cleverness and teamwork, and they played the game from the -beginning with a snap and vim which was a joy to see. - -Yale was not noticeably behind them. Animated by the contagious optimism -of Merriwell, Buckhart, and some of the older players, they met the rush -of the crimson line like a wall of rock and contested every foot of -advance. - -Jack Kenny was doing wonders. Thrilled by the necessity of making up for -the harm he had wrought unconsciously, he played for all that was in -him, and the result was an exhibition of brilliant headwork and resource -such as is seldom seen. - -Back and forth surged the lines of men. Now and then one side or the -other would bring into play some unexpected, spectacular stunt which -drew forth shouts of delight from the stands and gave them the momentary -advantage, only to have their opponents retaliate in kind. - -The first quarter passed without either side scoring. The crowds were -wild with excitement, and during the brief three-minute pause they -cheered themselves hoarse and nearly stamped the grand stands down in -their efforts to show their enthusiastic appreciation. - -At the beginning of the second quarter Harvard rushed the ball down the -field in a determined, irresistible effort to score. They were opposed -with equal determination, and the battle was on again. - -Back and forth, back and forth surged the lines. Now one side had the -advantage and then the other. At length, Kenny tried the much-practiced -double pass with Baxter and Merriwell on Harvard’s thirty-yard line, and -it worked. - -Swiftly the pigskin flew through the air into Teddy Baxter’s waiting -arms. Without a pause he dashed on, crossing behind Merriwell, shooting -out into the field around the end, guarded by Crowfoot and Blair -Hildebrand. The crimson line plunged forward and to the left, sure of -their man. - -Then, like a flash of light, the ball flew from Baxter into the waiting -arms of Merriwell, and Teddy lunged to block their opponent’s guard, -while Dick kept on without a pause toward the goal. - -He made it, and the spectators on the Yale stand went wild. It was the -first moment since the start of the game that the tension had been -released, and, surging to their feet, they sent roar after roar of -cheering which thundered across the field in great crashes of sound, -stupendous in their volume. - -Then came a breathless hush while the goal was being kicked, and after -that the noise commenced again, dying away gradually as the game was -resumed. - -Nothing more happened in that quarter. The crimson-clad men, undeterred -by their opponents’ vantage, worked like tigers; but there was not -enough time left for them to accomplish anything, and the shrill sound -of the whistle left them on Yale’s forty-yard line. - -“How about it, Dale?” Dick asked, as he passed the Harvard captain on -their way to the track house. - -Sparkfair grinned cheerfully. - -“That was only my generous spirit giving you boys a little needed -encouragement,” he returned airily. “Wait until the next quarter, -Richard, and see us wipe up the field with you fellows. We’re only just -beginning to get warmed up.” - -Merriwell caught up with Jack Kenny, who was a little ahead. - -“That was corking, Jack,” he said warmly. “You rang that double pass in -at exactly the right moment. They weren’t expecting it, and it couldn’t -have worked better. Keep it up, old fellow. You’re playing the game of -your life.” - -Kenny flushed with pleasure. - -“I’m trying to make up,” he said, in a low tone. - -“And you’re succeeding,” Dick said swiftly. “We’ve got them going, and -now we want to hold them from making a score.” - -In the track house, Fullerton gave the boys a short, pithy talk, -cautioning them not to lose their grip now that they had scored, and to -bend every energy toward keeping the crimson line away from the goal. -There was a vast deal of rubbing lame shoulders, ankles, and wrists, -until the rooms fairly reeked with witch-hazel and arnica; a perfect -babel of excited talk and speculation and laughter; and then they -trotted out to the field again and took their places on the gridiron. - -Dale Sparkfair made good his joking words to Merriwell by means of as -pretty a round-the-end dash as had ever been seen on the field, and then -it was Harvard’s turn to let loose their pent-up flood of enthusiasm. -More than one undergraduate—and staid alumnus as well—could not speak -above a whisper for a good many hours. - -The third quarter ended with the scores even. The excitement had risen -to a fever heat. With only fifteen minutes of play left, what was going -to be the result? Would the game remain a tie? That seemed incredible, -and yet it looked to a good many as though it would be the case. - -The brief intermission was almost over. The spectators settled back into -their seats and the cheering started in once more. The sun was almost -behind the west corner of the stand. The shadows were lengthening and a -brisk, sharp wind, straight from the Sound, caused overcoat collars to -be turned up and furs to be drawn closely around fair necks. From the -crowded tiers of seats came the steady tramp-tramp of chilled feet, -hinting their owners’ impatience. - -The players took their places; the breathless silence was suddenly split -by the shrilling of the referee’s whistle, and the battle was resumed. - -Jack Kenny played the game during that last quarter as he had never -played before. His clever work rose to the point of brilliancy, for the -winning of that game had become an absolute monomania with him. He felt -that in no other way could he make up for his behavior of the past week, -which had come so perilously near bringing disaster upon his beloved -college. - -It would be a triumph indeed if he could personally make another run for -the blue, but he felt that such a thing was too much to hope for. - -But brilliant as was his manœuvring, which was ably seconded by every -man on the team, the splendid work of Harvard made it barren of results. -They were evidently determined that, if they could not score again, -neither should their opponents; and the hands of the big clock above the -stand moved inexorably forward without either side having the advantage. - -Desperately Kenny tried every trick at his command, without avail. Back -and forth surged the gasping, ragged, tattered lines of men, battling in -those last few minutes as if their very lives, and more, depended on -their efforts. - -The vast throng of spectators were thrilled into silence so absolute -that it seemed almost as if they had ceased breathing, as they bent -forward with staring eyes riveted on the field, oblivious to all else -but the struggle taking place before them. - -There were but four minutes left when the quarter back suddenly ripped -out a signal and snatched the ball from Baulsir. This time he did not -pass it, but darted toward the left end. Tempest sprang forward and -swung in beside him; the left tackle and end interfered strenuously as -the crimson line plunged forward. - -Kenny ran as he had never run before, and Tempest kept pace with him -barely a few feet away. In an instant they had cleared the opposing -guard and tackle, running free with only the full back and left half in -the way. - -Kenny thrilled with joy and exultation. His chance had come. Tempest -would take care of the half back, and, somehow, he could manage to get -past the other. He would make a goal and win the game. Thus his -self-respect would be restored and reparation made for his amazing -folly. - -But swiftly on the heels of this thought came another. What of Tempest? -If he made goal the fellows would think that he had been right all along -and the captain wrong. Would that be the sort of reparation he had -wished to make? Would it be the really generous thing to do? There was -but a second in which to answer the question, for the half back was -almost upon them. - -Kenny stumbled suddenly, and uttered a sharp, stifled cry. - -“Quick, Don!” he gasped. “Take it!” - -Tempest was not slow. Without hesitating an instant, he caught the -pigskin skillfully and sped on; Kenny recovered himself with amazing -swiftness and lunged toward the Harvard half. A moment later they rolled -to the ground together, while the man with the ball flew on toward the -beckoning goal posts. - -By the time the quarter back had staggered to his feet Tempest had -passed the full back. An instant later he crossed the line and -pandemonium broke loose. - -Kenny felt a lump in his throat as he heard Tempest’s name hurled across -the field in great crashes of sound which thrilled him to the very core. -It might have been his own, but he did not care. - -“I’m glad I did it,” he muttered. “It was the decent thing to do.” - -Then he remembered that he ought to limp a little to account for his -stumble, and promptly developed a very realistic lameness, which lasted -until they were going back to the track house, surrounded by a yelling, -shouting, capering mob of fellows, who had poured out of the stands and -presently insisted on hoisting every one of the players up on their -shoulders and carrying them on their way in triumph. - -Tempest headed the procession, and it was his name which sounded most -frequently from the mouths of the triumphant marching throngs. The -quarter back would have been more than human had he not felt a momentary -longing to be in the captain’s place, but he quickly smothered it. - -“I’m glad!” he muttered emphatically—he might have shouted the words -aloud and no one would have heard him. “I’d do it again, too. I’ve been -dirty mean to Don, but this sort of squares us up.” - -Reaching the track house, he slipped lightly to the ground and started -to go inside. - -All at once he felt a hand on his shoulder, and, turning swiftly, looked -into Dick Merriwell’s eyes. - -“That was a clever pass, Jack,” the latter said quietly. “Did you hurt -your ankle much?” - -Kenny flushed and dropped his eyes. - -“Not very,” he returned, in a low tone. “I—I stumbled, and—er—er——” - -“I thought it couldn’t be very bad,” Merriwell put in quickly. “You seem -to have gotten over it pretty soon.” - -“It wasn’t so very bad,” the quarter back answered. “But I didn’t want -to run any chances, so I passed the ball to Don.” - -There was a momentary pause, during which the slim fellow seemed to find -an absorbing interest in arranging with his foot three loose pebbles in -a triangle. - -“You old bluffer!” Merriwell exclaimed suddenly. - -With a gasp, Kenny raised his head and looked straight into Dick’s eyes, -which were watching him with an expression of satisfaction and perfect -friendship. - -“Wh-what do you mean?” the quarter back faltered weakly. - -“Just what I say,” retorted Dick. - -He threw one arm over Kenny’s shoulder and smiled. - -“You’re an old bluff!” he repeated. “There wasn’t an earthly thing the -matter with you out there. You stumbled on purpose to give Don the ball -and let him make the goal. It was a corking thing to do, Jack, and not -one fellow in a thousand could have brought himself to it. Didn’t you -start out with the idea of making it yourself?” - -Kenny nodded slowly. - -“Yes,” he said, in a low tone. - -“But you saw your chance, and you’ll never regret it,” Dick went on -softly. “You’ve evened up the score with Tempest now, and the fellows -will never have a chance to say that you were right and he was wrong. It -was generous, Jack, and I’m proud of you.” - -A keen sense of pleasure and satisfaction thrilled Kenny to the heart. -Suddenly he looked anxiously at Merriwell. - -“You won’t tell Don?” he questioned hastily. - -“Not I!” laughed Dick. - -His arm still about the quarter back’s shoulder, he turned, and together -they disappeared into the track house. - - - THE END. - - -“Frank Merriwell’s Tact,” is the next title, by Burt L. Standish, No. -193 of the MERRIWELL SERIES. It is an unusually good story. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - - - - The Dealer - -who handles the STREET & SMITH NOVELS is a man worth patronizing. The -fact that he does handle our books proves that he has considered the -merits of paper-covered lines, and has decided that the STREET & SMITH -NOVELS are superior to all others. - -He has looked into the question of the morality of the paper-covered -book, for instance, and feels that he is perfectly safe in handing one -of our novels to any one, because he has our assurance that nothing -except clean, wholesome literature finds its way into our lines. - -Therefore, the STREET & SMITH NOVEL dealer is a careful and wise -tradesman, and it is fair to assume selects the other articles he has -for sale with the same degree of intelligence as he does his -paper-covered books. - -Deal with the STREET & SMITH NOVEL dealer. - - - STREET & SMITH CORPORATION - 79 Seventh Avenue New York City - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - ● Transcriber’s Notes: - ○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected. - ○ Typographical errors were silently corrected. - ○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only - when a predominant form was found in this book. - ○ Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Dick Merriwell's Fighting Chance, by -Burt L. 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