Frank Merriwell's Reward Part 26

Down by the fence by Durfee's, on the campus, in the gymnasium, at Traeger's and Morey's and Jackson's, and wherever Yale men congregated, almost the sole topic of conversation was of who would go to "Bones,"

"Keys," and "Wolf's Head."

The air of mystery surrounding membership in these senior societies, the honor which their membership confers, and the fact that but a few men, comparatively, out of any junior cla.s.s can be elected to them, create an absorbing interest.

Skull and Bones, or "Bones," as it is popularly called, is the wealthiest and most respected. Then follows Scrolls and Keys, or "Keys,"

with Wolf's Head third in order of distinction. The names are taken from the society pins. Each of these societies has a handsome and costly club-house, whose secrets are no more to be arrived at than are those of the sphinx and the pyramids.

Conjectures as to what society would get the most prominent members of the junior cla.s.s had engrossed a good deal of thought for several weeks.

Each society takes in fifteen members, or forty-five in all, out of the two hundred and fifty or more men that usually compose the junior cla.s.s.

As every junior is anxious to become a member, the feverish interest with which the subject is regarded by the juniors may be imagined. This interest had gradually spread throughout the college. Now the subject suddenly leaped to such importance that it overshadowed the ball-game which Yale was to play against Princeton, and the coming boat-race at New London, in which the phenomenally popular Inza Burrage was to be the mascot of the Yale crew.

Cla.s.s spirit, that wildly jovial night, seemed to melt the soph.o.m.ores into a fraternizing, loving brotherhood, where discord was unknown, even though the cla.s.s contained such opposite elements as Buck Badger, Jim Hooker, Donald Pike, Pink Pooler, the Chickering set, Porter, Cowles, Mullen, Benson, Billings, Webb, and others. Though these might join in cla.s.s dances and marches, and howl themselves hoa.r.s.e in honor of the soph.o.m.ores and of Yale, some of them could no more unite in any true sense than oil and water.

The campus was brilliantly illuminated. Powerful calcium and electric lights bored holes through the darkness, turning night into day. All the windows of all the dormitories which face the campus were crowded with students and with women.

Three of these windows held Frank Merriwell's friends. Frank was there, with Inza, Elsie, and Winnie, together with Mrs. Hodge and Inza's invalid father, Bernard Burrage.

"As in life, the good and the evil mingle," sighed Dismal Jones, as his eyes fell on Jim Hooker and other honorable soph.o.m.ores who were marching in close proximity to the Chickering set. "The wheat grows up with the tares, and the result is an everlasting bobbery."

"There will be tears in your wardrobe if you don't quit walking on me!"

squeaked Bink Stubbs.

"Climb up on a chair," advised Danny, who had already taken his own advice, and was thus able to look down into the campus without stretching his neck until he was in danger of converting himself into a dromedary. "It's just great!"

"Can't be anything great for me that holds that Chickering crowd!"

Browning grumbled.

"Isn't the campus beautiful!" was Inza's enthusiastic exclamation.

It was, indeed, beautiful, for the fresh, tender green of the elms was brought out with marvelous distinctness by the brilliant lights.

"They're kuk-kuk-kicking up an awful dud-dud-dud-dust!" stuttered Gamp, pushing forward for a better view.

"Dust a.s.sume to crowd in front of me, base varlet?" questioned Bruce.

"I'll forgive you if you'll just take off your tall head and hold it under your arm!"

"I s'pose naow you think that's a joke!" said Gamp.

"It's more than a dust, fellows," said Merriwell. "There is a fight on!"

Certain of the soph.o.m.ores had bunched together under one of the elms, and seemed to be struggling, as if in a contest.

"It looks as though they might be playing football," suggested Elsie.

Winnie Lee leaned anxiously out of the window, for in the center of that knot she had seen Buck Badger. She had eagerly searched for him in the procession, and had but found him when that indication of a wrangle came to disturb her.

The procession seemed to be breaking up and concentrating beneath and around the elm where that struggle was taking place. Far in front a number of students were bellowing their "Omega Lambda Chi," but the others had ceased to sing.

"See how great a matter a little fire kindleth!" said Dismal.

And Dismal was right. The beginning of that scramble was trivial enough.

But the trouble which it kindled was destined to outlive the moment and seriously affect the life and fortunes of at least one of the partic.i.p.ants. Jones was merely grumbling one of his proverbs, without dreaming how appropriate the words really were.

Donald Pike had been nagging and tormenting the Chickering set. He had b.u.mped his toes against Ollie Lord's high-heeled shoes. In the lock-step walk he had put his hands crushingly on Tilton Hull's high choker collar. He had pitched against and torn Gene Skelding's flaring necktie.

And he had even dared to knock off Julitan Ives' hat and disarrange his lovely bang.

At last, in his exuberance, he seized a handful of clammy soil that was almost the consistency of mud, and playfully tossed it at Lew Veazie. It missed Veazie, and, by an infortuitous fate, took Buck Badger smack in the eye. Badger, who had seen Pike's antics, clapped a hand to his eye with a grunt of pain and astonishment.

"You scoundrel!" he bellowed. Then he lunged at Pike, with a startling suddenness that took Donald quite off his guard and threw him headlong.

Badger believed that Pike had thrown the mud into his eye purposely.

There had been bad feeling between them, and even worse, for some time, and the gap separating them seemed to be growing wider all the while.

Each had said exasperating and belittling things of the other, and a wall of hate had been built up where once there had been a bond of strong friendship. The pain in Badger's eye was excruciating, and it rendered him for a little while absolutely reckless. Fortunately, it also rendered him incapable of inflicting on his former friend the punishment which his rage dictated.

For a short time affairs were exciting enough. Soph.o.m.ores and freshmen deserted the procession and leaped for the elm where the crowd was quickly gathering. Badger threw himself on Pike, after the latter was down, and would have proceeded to pound his face, without doubt, but that his arms were caught and held.

It was all over within less than two minutes. Some of the Westerner's friends held him back and began to talk some sense into him, while Pike's friends drew him out and away.

"I reckon this isn't the end of it!" snarled Badger, flinging the words at Pike. "There will be a beautiful settlement of this, remember."

Then he hobbled blindly out of the crowd with some acquaintances, to have his smarting eye attended to, while the procession reformed, and the rollicking students began again to shout their "Omega Lambda Chi."

The "beautiful settlement" came at a late hour that night. Badger encountered Pike while the latter was on his way to his room. The Kansan's eye still pained him, and his rage was hot. As soon as he saw Pike he stepped across the walk and took him by the nose.

"That's the way I treat such skunks as you!" he hissed, flinging Pike from him after offering him that deadly insult. "I want to warn you to keep out of my way after this. If you don't, I'll treat you just as I would a rattler!"

"You mean you will kill me!" snarled Pike, rushing at the Kansan in a fit of blind rage.

But he was no match for Badger, who flung him off with surprising ease, and then held him at bay and at arm's length by a clutch on his throat.

"I've a notion to choke the breath out of you!" said Badger. "Don't tempt me too far, or I might forget myself and do it. You know that I've got a red-hot, cantankerous temper when I get started. Now go! Git! If you don't, I'll lift you with my shoe. And keep out of my way, unless you want trouble!"

He pushed Pike from him with stinging scorn.

"I'll go!" said Pike. "But I'll pay you for to-night's work! See if I don't! You'll find out that there are more ways of fighting than with fists. You may wish that you had killed me, before you get through with it!"

"What does the scoundrel mean by that?" the Westerner questioned, staring at Pike as the latter hurried away. "I reckon he is mean enough to do anything. Well, he had better have a care!"

He was soon destined to feel the effects of Pike's threat in a manner more crushing than any knock-down, physical blow which Pike could have delivered.

CHAPTER XV.

PIKE AND BADGER.