MERRY CALLS ON READY.
Frank Merriwell and a number of friends stood outside Mrs.
Harrington’s freshman boarding-house that evening about nine o’clock.
“That is his room,” declared Hodge, pointing to a lighted window.
“He’s up there with a gang of his friends.”
“A rather bad time to get him out, isn’t it?” asked Danny Griswold.
“We’ll have to wait till his friends leave.”
“We can’t afford to wait,” said Halliday. “Time is precious. We must
get him out.”
“How?”
“Go up in a body and capture him.”
“There are seven of us,” said Browning. “We ought to be able to do
that.”
“What do you say, Merriwell?”
“Well, we might do it, and we might get into the hottest nest we ever
struck. You all ought to know what a freshman boarding-house is when
it is aroused.”
“It’s a nest,” nodded Hodge.
“A wasp’s nest,” agreed Griswold. “Some of us would get stung.”
“Another thing,” said Frank, “we can’t afford to let it be generally
known that we took a hand in the hazing of a freshman. That kind of
business is left for the sophs.”
“And the sophs left us to bring the man.”
“Because they thought he would not suspect us, and we might be able to
inveigle him into coming without making a rumpus.”
“I’ll go up and bring him down,” grunted Browning. “I’d rather not
tackle the job, but something must be done.”
“Then,” said Frank, “leave the job to me.”
“Will you do it?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I don’t know now; but I’ll find a way. I want you to have a closed
cab here in about fifteen minutes. Get it here as soon as that, and
have the driver onto the game.”
“We’ll do it.”
“Now get out of sight. I’m going in.”
They scattered, and Merry advanced up the steps and rang the
door-bell. Mrs. Harrington’s daughter appeared at the door.
“Good evening, Miss Harrington,” said Merry, tipping his hat politely.
“Have you forgotten me?”
“I think I have,” said the angular maiden, rather suspiciously. “Be
you a softmore?”
“No, indeed,” answered Merry. “I am a junior.”
“’Case if you were a softmore,” said Miss Harrington, “I should give
you warning to keep away from here. They have near pestered the
patience out of mother.”
“I boarded here once, Miss Harrington. I am Frank Merriwell.”
“Land! Do tell! Come right in! Mother will be delighted to see you.”
Frank entered, and soon he was listening to the woes of Mrs.
Harrington, as related by herself.
“Oh, Mr. Merriwell!” said the widow; “it’s not many young men there do
be nowadays like you. When you were here peace and quietness reigned
beneath this roof, but now it is quite a different story.”
Frank concealed a smile behind his hand, as he thought of the hot
times in that house when he boarded there. Mrs. Harrington had
repeatedly told him that her boarders at that time were the worst she
had ever known. With the good lady, her last lot of boarders always
were the worst.
“I understand,” said Frank, “that you have one fine young gentleman
stopping here.”
“Goodness knows who it can be!” cried Mrs. Harrington. “To me they all
seem a set of ruffians. Will you listen to that?”
Down the stairs came the sound of a freshman song, bellowed by at
least a dozen persons, each one of whom seemed trying to roar forth
the words louder than the rest.
“They’s a lot of them up there holding some kind of a jollification
this minute,” said the widow. “It will be fortunate if they do not
break down the doors and smash the windows before they finish.”
It was like a breath of his freshman days to Frank, and it gave him a
feeling of pleasure.
“They seem to be lovely singers,” he said.
“I don’t call that singing!” sniffed the boarding-house keeper. “It’s
howlin’. Did you ever hear anything like it in all your born days?”
“I think I have,” laughed Frank. “But I was speaking to you of a fine
young gentleman who is stopping here, Mr. Jack Ready.”
“Him!” cried the widow. “Oh, he is the very worst! I never saw his
match! He don’t do a thing but raise Cain all the time, and he’s the
worst practical joker.”
“Is that so?” exclaimed Frank. “Now, I had supposed that he was
exceedingly quiet and refined.”
“Why, he plays his senseless jokes on me――me, Mr. Merriwell! He has
done so repeatedly.”
“I am surprised!”
“I’ve threckened to turn him out of the house more than once, but he
has such a soft way of getting round me that I’ve continnered to let
him stay.”
Frank knew what that meant. Mrs. Harrington had a way of being
pacified with a V. Whenever she rose in her majesty and asserted
herself, she could be soothed by a peace-offering in the way of a
collection taken up by one of her lodgers.
“There has been some talk of taking Mr. Ready into the Y. M. C. A.,”
said Frank gravely. “I have called to talk matters over with him.”
“I’m afeared you have called at a bad time. Howsoever, I’ll go up and
tell him you are here.”
“Stay,” said Frank, “perhaps you had better permit me to go directly
to his room. If the friends with him knew my mission, they might
object.”
This was true enough. Merry knew there was talk of taking every new
student at Yale into the Y. M. C. A., and he had simply stated that he
had called to see Ready on “business,” without explaining what sort of
business. At first Mrs. Harrington hesitated, but, as Frank was not a
sophomore, she finally consented to let him go direct to Ready’s room,
and gave him directions for finding it. The directions were quite
unnecessary, for the uproar of sounds was sufficient to guide Frank
aright.
Having mounted two flights of stairs, Frank rapped on the door from
beyond which came the terrible uproar. His first knock was not heard,
and he almost cracked the door-panel the next time. Then somebody
inside yelled:
“Come in!”
Frank turned the knob, pushed open the door, and walked in. As he
stepped through the doorway, he was drenched from head to feet by a
pailful of water, which had been suspended in such a manner that the
top of the door struck the bottom of the pail and upset its contents.
There was a shout of delight from the roomful of freshmen as the water
descended on Frank.
Then somebody threw a boxing-glove, which struck Merry fairly between
the eyes.
“Water surprise!” punned Frank, as he drew out his handkerchief and
began to wipe his clothes.
“It’s Merriwell!” cried several.
“Hello, Merriwell!” said Jack Ready himself. “Has it been raining
outside?”
“There was a heavy shower just as I came in,” retorted Frank
good-naturedly.
The freshmen were delighted, and they showed it by laughing
uproariously.
“If I had known you were coming I might have loaned you your
umbrella,” chuckled Ready.
“I haven’t a doubt of it,” nodded Frank. “Somebody stole it two weeks
ago.”
“I trust you will pardon me, but I have a fondness for silk
umbrellas,” said Jack. “I am making a collection of them.”
Frank was perfectly good-natured. He did not seem ruffled in the least
by the ducking he had received, and the freshmen admired him for that.
The room was full of smoke. Every man present, Ready included, seemed
to be smoking like mad.
“I wish,” observed Frank, looking round, “I had thought to bring along
a ham. I might have one cured here in a very short time.”
They gathered about to shake his hand, but he begged to be excused on
account of his lame wrist.
“I called to congratulate Mr. Ready on his splendid work in the Brown
game.”
“Thank you,” said Jack, with a profound bow. “Do I not bear my honors
becomingly?”
“Very so-so,” laughed Frank, for Ready had a queer way of saying
simple things, a way that was highly ludicrous.
“Um-yum,” mumbled the freshman. “I am exceedingly modest, and I blush
and tremble in the calcium-light glare of publicity which has been
turned upon me of late.”
“But there are still greater honors in store for you,” declared Frank.
“Refuse me!” cried Jack. “I am afraid I shall be unable to stand the
severe strain.”
“Oh, I think you’ll pull through! If you keep up the good work, you’ll
get there.”
“Where is there?”
“Yonder.”
“I half suspected it,” said the freshman meditatively. “I feared that
there could not be here. ‘Alas! in this cold world of ours, the
soonest fade the fairest flowers!’ I forbid any one present to quote
that. It’s original with me, and I have it protected by copyright,
patent, and the laws of the United States and New Jersey.”
Mentally, Frank decided that Ready was a rattle-headed fellow, with a
heart as big as his whole body, as the saying goes. The freshman had a
flighty way of jumping from one subject to another, but Merry fancied
that he could be sober enough when occasion demanded.
“I see you have been boxing,” said Frank. “Don’t let me interrupt
you.”
Ready caught up a pair of gloves and pulled them on.
“I have been showing them the new uppercut,” he said. “It’s like
this.”
He made a false swing at Frank with his right, but struck at Merry’s
face with his left. Without lifting his hands, Frank moved his head
slightly to one side, just enough to avoid the blow, and Ready’s fist
flew past his ear.
Jack was surprised. He came back as soon as he could recover, saying:
“I made a mistake. That was not right. It was this way.”
Then he struck first with his right and then with his left at Frank’s
face. Even then Frank did not lift a hand, but by quickly dodging his
head he avoided both blows, without stirring out of his tracks. And
the assembled freshmen gave a shout of applause.
“Ye gods!” cried Jack Ready. “What have I struck?”
“Not a thing so far,” smiled Frank. “Why, you don’t seem to be much
good with the gloves!”
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
“Don’t fool yourself.”
“Not in the least.”
“I can hit you!”
“Think so?”
“Of course.”
“Think again.”
Jack seemed to strike at Frank like a flash of lightning, but once
more he hit nothing but empty air, as Merriwell had dodged even a
little quicker than the freshman struck. The spectators uttered their
approval, some of them urging Jack to keep it up.
“What is it?” grinned Ready, staring at Frank. “Talk about your artful
dodger! This takes the plum-pudding!”
“It is the easiest thing in the world,” asserted Frank.
“How do you do it?”
“Why, I know when you are going to strike, and so I’m ready to dodge
as soon as you are ready to strike.”
“Well, how do you know so much.”
“I can read you,” asserted Merry smilingly. “You are like an open book
to me. Your thoughts are transmitted to my brain fully as soon as they
are formed in yours.”
“Well, say, you are a great bluffer! I thought you had a reputation
for telling the truth.”
“So I have.”
“Then it’s ruined now.”
“Oh, I guess not. I can prove what I say by standing up for one minute
without lifting a hand and letting you strike at my head. You cannot
hit me once.”
“What will you bet?”
“I don’t believe I will bet anything in the way of money.”
“You don’t dare!”
“That’s the stuff, Jack!” cried several. “Drive him into his hole!”
“But I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said Frank.
“Go on.”
“I’ll bet a pig-pack ride down-stairs and back.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you hit me inside of a minute, I’ll carry you down-stairs on my
back. If you do not hit me, you are to carry me down and back. What do
you say to that?”
“Done!” cried Ready, in satisfaction, while the rest of the crowd
shouted with delight.
“A minute is a long time,” said one. “You’ll be sure to hit him inside
of that time, Jack.”
“Remember, that you are to strike at nothing but my head,” warned
Merry. “If you hit me anywhere else, it doesn’t count.”
“That’s all right.”
“And I want a space of at least six feet in which I can move about.”
“You shall have it, and I’ll hit you inside of fifteen seconds, for
all of your clever dodging.”
Ready was confident. It did not take long to prepare for the affair.
In a short time they were ready. One of the spectators had been chosen
as timekeeper, and he sat with his watch in his hand. Frank had
stripped off his coat, and stood in his shirt-sleeves.
“It will be pretty warm work,” he smiled.
“It’ll be the hottest work you ever went up against,” declared Ready.
Then the word was given for them to start, and the peculiar match
began.
Ready went at Frank like a flash, striking with bewildering swiftness,
and the spectators, who were aroused to a high pitch of excitement,
fairly gasped as they saw Merriwell duck, dodge, turn, twist, jump,
and avoid those blows, swiftly though they were rained at his
unprotected face. Fully half a minute passed of this work before Frank
was hit, but hit he was, at last, and a great shout went up.
Frank paused, breathing somewhat heavier than usual, while he smiled
and bowed to Jack.
“You did it,” he acknowledged.
“I knew I could!” shouted Ready. “You could not keep that up a whole
minute. I don’t understand how you did it as long as you did.”
“And now Merriwell must carry you down-stairs and back!” cried the
freshmen mirthfully.
The very idea of a junior carrying a freshman pig-pack was enough to
fill them with merriment.
“That is right,” said Frank. “I am beaten, and I must pay the bet.”
He started to put on his coat.
“Better keep it off,” was the advice he received. “You’ll find Ready
pretty heavy, and you won’t need your coat.”
“I think I’ll put it on just the same,” said Frank. “I’m perspiring,
you know.”
He also put on his hat, and he took out his watch and looked at it,
noting that something more than fifteen minutes had elapsed since he
entered the house. The closed cab would be waiting outside. Amid great
laughter, Ready climbed from a chair to Frank’s back, and Merry
started down-stairs with him. The freshmen flocked out to the head of
the stairs and shouted:
“Careful, careful, my beautiful Arab steed,” warned Jack. “I know thou
art sure-footed, but there is danger.”
“That’s right,” said Frank, as he reached the bottom of the second
flight and saw the front door swing open wide to admit a boarder.
“Even an Arab steed may run away with its master.”
Then he bolted out through the open door, carrying Ready along to the
street, where Frank’s friends and the cab waited their arrival.