CHAPTER VIII.

A PAIR OF KNAVES.

About four miles from the Eagle Heights club lived Joel Bemis, a

farmer. On the afternoon of the day following the events just recorded

in the best “spare room” at the Bemis farm sat a young man whose

eyes were covered by a bandage and whose face was cut, bruised, and

discolored in places.

A step sounded outside the door, and the man on the chair started and

lifted the bandage from his eyes.

“Frost!” he exclaimed, as Dent Frost entered. “Well, you’ve been a

devilish long time coming!”

“Came at the first opportunity, Manton,” declared the visitor, eying

the other. “Say, but you’re a sight! You did let that fellow cut you

all to pieces!”

“You don’t have to tell me!” snarled Hobart Manton. “I’ve looked in the

glass.”

“That must have been to-day. You couldn’t see out of your eyes last

night.”

“What are you trying to do—rub it in?”

“Oh, no; but I’m sore because you let him hammer you up that way.”

“Not half as sore as I am. I’d like to kill him!”

“Why, I thought you could fight!”

“I can.”

“It looked that way!” sneered Frost coldly.

“I can,” repeated Manton; “but he can fight better. I hate to

acknowledge it, but I have to.”

“He certainly made a holy spectacle of you.”

“I’ll get even! You wait!”

“I don’t know how you’re going to do it.”

“I’ll find a way! I’ve thought of a hundred ways. I haven’t had

anything else to do. Tell me, what do they say at the club? I suppose

they know all about it? Of course Merriwell and Hodge had to blow about

it.”

“I don’t believe they have said a thing. I told everybody who asked

questions that you were called to the city on business. I think Fuller

succeeded in inducing Merriwell and Hodge to keep still for the

present. Cleaves hasn’t said anything. He doesn’t like those chaps.”

“But he’s wishy-washy; he doesn’t hate them. I didn’t hate them to

begin with. I counted Merriwell a big case of bluff, and I wanted to

show him up. This is the result!”

Manton was bitter enough. He realized his mistake, but felt deeply the

disgrace he had brought upon himself. It made no difference that he was

wholly to blame for the whole unpleasant affair.

“Well, what are you going to do?” asked Frost, taking a chair.

Once he had regarded Manton with considerable respect; but now his

respect was gone and he found it difficult to hold in check a feeling

of contempt for the fellow.

“What is Merriwell doing?”

“He’s getting ready to participate in the meet.”

“Getting ready—how?”

“Practicing jumping and pole vaulting. Some of his friends have

arrived at the Elm Tree. There’s a field near the inn. I watched them

through a field-glass this forenoon. Merriwell is a pole vaulter, sure

enough; but I don’t believe he’ll press me close.”

“Don’t you?”

“No.”

“Let me tell you something, Frost.”

“Go ahead.”

“I’ve changed my mind about that fellow. He’s a winner if given

anything like a square show. If you defeat him, you’ll have to do it

through a trick of some sort.”

“Rot! Just because he happened to get the best of you, you fancy he can

beat the world. Get over it!”

“All right; but you wait and see. Unless you find some method of

preventing him by a trick, he’ll show you up, just as he did me.”

“You make me sick!” snarled Frost angrily.

“Oh, do I?”

“Yes, you do!”

“You’ll be sicker after you go against him.”

“You’re completely whipped. All the spirit has been taken out of you.”

“I’ve learned something. You’ve got your lesson to learn.”

“How can he be defeated by a trick?”

“I don’t know now. If I find a way, will you try it?”

Frost hesitated.

“It’s tom-foolishness,” he declared. “I’d rather beat him on the

square.”

“Go ahead! Go ahead! Have your own way and be sorry about it afterward.”

They were silent some moments. At last Frost slowly said:

“If you could tell me of any method that would work I might consider

it—that is, if it wouldn’t be detected.”

“I’ll devise a method before to-morrow. I’ve got nothing else to think

about. Come round to-morrow and I’ll have a plan. I hope I can get my

face into shape so I’ll be able to attend the meet without causing

comment. I’ll have to stay shut up here a day or two longer, though.”

“Well, I’m going back,” said Frost, rising. “I’ll come round to-morrow.

So long.”

Frank Merriwell's Marriage; Or, Inza's Happiest Day · 第 8 / 36 章