Frank Merriwell at Yale Part 17

"Run!" panted Frank Merriwell's voice in his ear.

And they ran away together, and in a short while were safe in their rooms.

It turned out that it was not the faculty that had tried to get in where the duel was taking place, but some of the sophs. At the time he turned back to rescue Diamond, however, Frank had believed the Virginian was in the grasp of one of the professors.

Merriwell was regarded as more of a wonder than ever when it became generally known that he had twice disarmed the Virginian in a duel with rapiers--or a "fencing contest," as the matter was openly spoken of by those who discussed it.

But Bruce Browning, king of soph.o.m.ores, was awaiting an opportunity to get at Frank.

CHAPTER X.

AT MOREY'S.

"Say, fellows, this thing must stop!"

Puss Parker banged his fist down upon the table as he made this emphatic declaration, the blow causing the partly emptied gla.s.s of ale to dance and vibrate.

"Aw, say," yawned Willis Paulding, "you want to be a little cawful or you will slop the good stuff, don't yer know."

Willis affected a drawl, had his clothes made in London, and considered himself "deucedly English," although he sometimes forgot himself for a short time and dropped his mannerisms.

Tad Horner gave Paulding a look of scorn.

"Come off your perch, Paul!" he invited. "You give me severe pains! Get onto yourself! I don't wonder Parker is excited over this matter."

"Who wouldn't be excited?" exclaimed Puss. "These confounded freshmen have overthrown all the established customs of the college. They have been running things with a high hand. Why, they have really been c.o.c.ks of the walk ever since that little affair out at East Rock."

"'Sh!" cautioned Punch Swallows, a lad with fiery red hair. "Don't speak of that, for the love of goodness! Just think of a gang of sophs being captured by freshmen disguised as Indians, taken out into the country, tied to stakes and nearly roasted, while the freshmen dance a gleeful _cancan_ around them! It's awful! The mere thought of it gives me nervous prostration!"

It was two weeks after the duel, and the five soph.o.m.ores had gathered in the little back room at Morey's, They looked at each other and were silent, but their silence was very suggestive.

"By Jawve!" drawled Paulding, "it is awful! I wasn't in the crowd. If I had been--"

"You'd been roasted like the rest of us," cut in Parker.

"But I'd made it warm faw some of the blooming cads."

"Haven't we been doing our level best to make it warm for them?" cried Horner. "But no matter what we do, they see us and go us one better."

"It all comes from Merriwell," a.s.serted Swallows. "He's king of the freshmen, the same as Browning is king of the soph.o.m.ores."

"And he's a terror," nodded Horner. "He can put up more jokes than one."

"And they say he can fight."

"They say! Why, didn't you see him do Diamond, the fresh from Virginia?

Oh, no. I remember you were not with us that night. Yes, he can fight, and he doesn't seem to be easily scared."

"I think he is a blawsted upstart," said Paulding, lazily puffing at his cigarette. "He needs to be called down, don't yer know."

"Some time when he is upstairs, call him down," suggested Horner.

"Fists are not the only things that fellows can fight with," said Parker. "The matter has been kept quiet, but it is said to be a fact that Diamond forced him into a duel with rapiers, and he disarmed the Southerner twice, having him completely at his mercy each time."

"And Diamond prides himself on being an expert with that kind of weapon," nodded Horner.

"Why doesn't Browning do something?" asked Paulding. "It is outrageous faw a lot of freshies to run things this way."

"Browning is in training," said Parker.

"In training? What faw? Why, he is so lazy--"

"He's training to get some of the flesh off him. It is my opinion that somebody must check Merriwell's wild career, and he is getting in condition to do it. You know that Browning was one of the hardest men who ever entered Yale. He is a natural athlete, but he's lazy, and he has allowed himself to become soft. Why, he knocked out Kid Lajoie, the professional, in a hard-glove contest of three rounds. Lajoie was easy fruit for him. I fancy he means to go up against this fresh duck Merriwell and do him. That's the only thing that will pull Merriwell off his perch. He doesn't mind being hazed."

"Doesn't mind it!" shouted Horner. "Confound him! He always manages to turn the tables in some way, and hazes the parties who try to haze him."

Two youths came in from the front room.

"Hey, Browning! h.e.l.lo, King! Come join us. You, too, Emery"--to the other fellow. "What'll you have, Browning?"

Browning accepted a seat at the table, but waved his hand languidly as he declined to drink.

"I'm not taking anything now," he said.

"Oh, but you must! Have some ale, old man."

"Excuse me, gentlemen. I tell you squarely that I am not taking anything just now. By and by I will be with you again. Emery will go you one.

That's what he came in for."

"That's right," declared Browning's companion. "I was out stargazing last night. Looked at the Long-Handled Dipper a long time, and it gave me an awful thirst. I've had it with me all day. Yes, mine's ale."

So another round was ordered. Horner pa.s.sed around the cigarettes, and Browning declined them. The others lighted up fresh ones.

"Say," broke out Emery, suddenly, "do you know that fresh Ditson gives me that tired feeling?"

Tad Horner grinned.

"He's no good," said Tad. "He is crooked and he's a toucher. Touched me for a V once, and I am looking for that fiver yet. That was two years ago, before I came here. I knew him then."

"He tried to touch us for a drink as we came along," said Browning. "I took him in here once, but I've been sorry ever since. He said he had his thirst with him just now. I told him to go sit on the fence and let the wind blow him off."

"And he is a big bluff," a.s.serted Emery. "The other day he was telling how he once sat at the table with kings and queens. I told him that I had--and with jacks and ten spots. Here comes the amber. My! I won't do a thing to it!"

The waiter placed the gla.s.ses of ale before them, and Emery eagerly grasped his.