A STRONG ACCUSATION.
After the great horse race matters moved along smoothly for some time.
Frank worked hard over his studies and made fine progress.
He did not dare race Nemo again, for the college authorities would not
permit it, in the face of what had been said about betting.
Frank had gotten rid of some of his enemies for the time being, but
there were others, those who could not stand it to see him become such a
general hero.
One evening a crowd of these gathered in a resort known as Jackson's.
All had been drinking freely, and it was not long before every tongue
was loosened.
In the crowd were several students that my old readers have met before.
They included a hot-headed lad named Tom Thornton, a fussy fellow called
Puss Parker, and Fred Flemming, Willis Paulding, Andy Emery and Tad
Horner.
Earlier in the evening they had met at Morey's, but found they could not
talk privately there, as the place was filled with students.
Then Thornton had given them the tip to go down to Jackson's, a place
sometimes patronized by the students, although it did not exclude the
general public.
Jackson's was known as a "joint," and very few of the college lads cared
to have it known that they ever went there; but it was a place where a
private room could be obtained in which to drink, gamble, or carouse,
and for this reason it appealed to a certain class of students.
It was in this place that Frank had exposed the gambler, Rolf Harlow,
and broken up the game by which Harlow and Harris were bleeding a
certain number of "lambs."
In getting together his party, Thornton had chosen the ones who seemed
to have sympathy with himself and Fred Flemming, or held a grudge
against Frank Merriwell.
Merriwell's name had not been mentioned until all had indulged very
freely in wine, Thornton being the most generous in "blowing off."
Then came a discussion about college sports, over which all had grown
more or less heated. At length Merriwell's name was mentioned, and then
Thornton declared Frank a cad.
"By Jawve!" drawled Willis Paulding, allowing cigarette smoke to escape
from his mouth as he spoke, "I agree with you, Thornton, don't yer 'now.
I nevah could bear that fellaw Merriwell."
Tad Horner gave a sniff.
"Merriwell would feel bad if he knew it," observed Tad, sarcastically.
"It would break him all up."
"That would not make the least difference to me, my dear fellaw,"
declared Willis, who was too dense to catch the sarcasm. "I have nevah
twaveled awound with him."
"I have noticed that," grinned Tad. "You have permitted him to avoid you
in a most astonishing manner."
"What have you against Merriwell, Thornton?" asked Parker. "I didn't
know you were so down on him. You both played on the football team last
fall."
"And Merriwell made a record for himself by winning the game for Yale,"
said Andy Emery.
Thornton laughed sneeringly, showing his perfect white teeth.
"Merriwell is always making a record for himself at something," he
returned. "I'd rather have his luck than be born rich. If any other
fellow on the team had obtained the ball at that particular moment, he
could have gone through Princeton's line as well as Merriwell did, for
Yale's interference was simply marvelous, and a clear road was given the
runner."
Emery shook his head.
"I think your memory is slightly at fault, old man," he said. "I am sure
Merriwell bowled over at least one man, and dodged one or two others,
besides going down the field like a wild engine, with Princeton's
fastest runner at his heels and unable to tackle him. Oh, it is not all
luck with Merriwell, Thornton, as you would acknowledge, if you were not
prejudiced."
"You talk as if you are stuck on the fellow!" snarled Tom, in his most
cutting manner.
"But you know I am not. I have held away--have had nothing to do with
him."
"And that is the reason why I invited you down here to-night."
"So? Well, I thought there was something more in the wind than a simple
discussion of athletics. What's up?"
"Don't be in a hurry. We'll come to that presently. Have another drink
all around. This is on me. Push the button, Horner. I want to order more
fizz."
"This is too much!" sighed Tad, as he pressed the button that
communicated with an electric bell at the bar. "If we do not let up,
we'll be in rocky shape in the morning."
The waiter appeared, and the wine was ordered. When the waiter went out,
after serving the order, he left the door communicating with the next
room standing open.
"Gentlemen," cried Thornton, lifting his glass of sparkling "fizz,"
"here's to a break in Merriwell's luck. May it come soon."
All drank.
"I can't quite agree with Thornton that it is all luck," said Puss
Parker, lowering his half-emptied glass. "It is not luck that enables
Merriwell to pitch on the ball team."
"Oh, I don't know!" exclaimed Tom. "If Heffiner's arm had not been in
bad condition, Merriwell would not have obtained the opportunity when he
did. If he had not obtained it then, he might not have obtained it at
all, for there are several other fellows who can twirl quite as well as
he."
"They think they can, but I have my doubts."
This kind of talk did not satisfy Thornton, and he snapped:
"I must say I didn't suppose you were one of that cad's sycophants,
Parker! I fancied you had more stamina than that. Next thing you'll be
saying that when his horse won the 'free for all' at Mystic Park it was
something more than luck."
"From what I have heard, I presume there was a great deal of luck
connected with that affair, but that is outside college sports. I did
not see the race, but I have heard that all sorts of tricks were tried
to put Merriwell's horse out of the race."
"So his friends have reported; but I take no stock in it. If he ever
enters that horse in another race he will lose his socks betting on the
beast."
"We were talking of rowing a short time ago," said Emery. "Let's return
to our mutton. Thornton was kicking because Merriwell has made a try
for the eight, and seems to stand a good show of getting there. I don't
see where Thornton's growl comes in. He can't pull an oar."
"But Flemming can," came quickly from Tom; "and he was sure of a
position on the eight till Merriwell went for a place. Like Pierson, who
captained the ball team last season, Collingwood seems to be stuck on
Merriwell. That's why he has thrown Flemming down."
"But I thought Merriwell's ideas about rowing did not correspond at all
with Collingwood's ideas?" said Tad Horner, with unusual gravity. "When
Merriwell was captain of the freshman crew, he introduced the Oxford oar
and the Oxford stroke. He actually drilled a lot of dummies into the use
of the oar and into something like the genuine English stroke. Everybody
acknowledged it was something marvelous, and one newspaper reporter had
the nerve to say that the freshmen had given the 'varsity crew a
pointer."
"Oh, yes," grated Thornton, bitterly. "The newspapers have advertised
Merriwell at every opportunity. Remember what a howl they made when he
stopped that runaway horse and rescued Fairfax Lee's daughter. Any one
would have thought the fellow had done a most marvelous thing, and since
then he has been taken into the very swellest New Haven society, and he
is lionized as if he were something more than a mere snob. It makes me
sick!"
"There is still some mystery about the fellow," said Parker. "How did he
happen to know so much about the Oxford stroke?"
"I've heard that he was at Oxford long enough to thoroughly acquaint
himself with the English methods," answered Emery.
"And it has been reported that the fellow has traveled all over the
world," said Horner. "His rooms are decorated with all sorts of strange
weapons, trophies and skins of wild animals, which it is said he
gathered in his travels."
"Bah!" sneered Thornton. "I have my doubts about his ever being at
Oxford, and I take no stock at all in the rest of that guff. It is
barely possible that he may have been over to England, but the yarn
about his having traveled in South America, Africa and Europe, is the
biggest sort of rot."
"Well, let it go as rot," said Horner; "you must acknowledge that he did
something most astonishing with that freshman crew. We did not have the
least idea in the world that they could beat us, but we were not in the
race on the home stretch."
"Oh, we thought we had a soft thing, that's all. If we'd dreamed we had
a hard race coming, we'd won all right."
"That may be, but I am not so sure. Still, if Merriwell could do so much
with a lot of freshmen, what might not be done if the same methods were
used with the 'varsity crew?"
"Bah!" cried Thornton again. "That sort of rot makes me sick! Bob
Collingwood has his own ideas, and he will not accept suggestions from
any one, although I think he was a fool to throw down Flemming for
Merriwell. Flem did great work on the football team, and he is in
condition to make a special effort at rowing this spring, while
Merriwell is obliged to play ball as well."
"I don't see how Merriwell does so many things and does them so well,"
confessed Tad Horner.
"Oh, he is one of the chaps who has the nerve to try anything, and will
stumble through anything after a fashion. Nine times out of ten those
fellows are never heard from after they leave college. The fellow who
takes some branch of athletics at college and sticks to it is likely to
select some line of business when he has graduated, and stick to that.
He is not diving into everything, and making a success of nothing."
"But Merriwell seemed to be diving into everything, and making a success
of everything. He is put up differently than most fellows."
"He showed his caddishness in introducing the English oar and stroke
when he was captain of the freshman crew. He would ape things English,
and in that line he makes a failure, at least."
"By Jawve! that is wight, don't yer 'now," drawled Willis Paulding, who
had visited London once on a time and endeavored to be "awfully English"
ever since. "He has not cawt the English air and expression, don't yer
understand. He--aw--makes a wegular failyaw of that, deah boys."
"Oh, say!" cried Tad Horner, "don't pile on the agony quite so thickly,
Paulding. It is nauseating!"
"Merriwell may not try to ape English manners and speech," said
Thornton, "but he is a cad, just the same, and the friends he has made
here at Yale are a lot of thin-blooded, white-livered creatures. Look at
them! There is Bruce Browning, once called 'King of the Sophomores,' but
cowed and bested by Merriwell, to be afterward dropped a class. There is
Jack Diamond, a boastful Southerner. He forced Merriwell to fight, but
fawned about Merriwell's feet like a cur when whipped."
"You lie, sir!"
By the open door a supple, well-built, dark-faced lad sprang into the
room. His eyes were flashing, and his teeth came together over his words
with a click.
It was Jack Diamond himself!