BIRDS OF A FEATHER.
Reynolds and Bascomb came from dinner arm in arm.
"Your time has come to knock out this fellow Merriwell, Hugh," declared
the big fellow's sporty companion. "You'll have to do it."
"It looks that way," admitted Bascomb, but there was something
ludicrously dubious in both his face and voice.
"Looks that way!" exclaimed Rupert, in a fiery manner. "Of course it
looks that way. There's nothing else to be done, and I should think
you'd be well satisfied with the opportunity."
"But I am not sure I can do it," confessed the bully, hesitatingly.
"Do it! Why, you ought to do it with one hand tied behind your back."
But Bascomb was not so easily reassured.
"I have boxed with him," said the big fellow, "and I know he is not
easy fruit for anybody."
"You boxed in the gym?"
"Yes."
"And there it was necessary to conform to certain rules."
"Of course."
"That wasn't much like a genuine fight."
"I know it; but I found it impossible to hit him a soaker with my left.
He is up to all the tricks."
"That's all right. Fight him in the evening, where you are not liable
to be interrupted till you have finished him. The darkness will be an
advantage to you, for he cannot see to guard or avoid all your heavy
blows, and you will soon do him up. If you work it right, you can get
him into a straight fight from start to finish, so it will not be a
matter of rounds, which would accrue to his advantage. Once you get at
him, you can follow him up till he is done for."
Reynolds' words gave Bascomb new courage.
"I don't know but you are right," he said. "The darkness would be to
my advantage, and I ought to be able to get in a knockout blow sooner
or later. By Jupiter! I believe I can polish him off!"
"Of course you can!" exclaimed his delighted companion. "Merriwell has
put on a big front, and succeeded in making everybody believe he is a
terror, but the time has come to cook his goose. Give him a good
licking, and he will not be so high and mighty. His popularity will
mighty soon begin to wane."
"You do not seem to love him."
"Not much! The cad has called me down on parade several times."
"Me, too."
"I'd like to get a grip on him that would disgrace him and cause his
dismissal."
"You are not the first fellow who has thought that way, but, somehow,
the cad has the luck to get out of every trap set for him, and he turns
the tables on anybody who tries to trap him."
"He can't be that lucky always."
"I should hope not."
"Shall I act for you?"
Bascomb hesitated. Something told him that Frank could fight quite as
well with his bare fists as he could box with gloves. But how could he
retreat? If he did not meet Merriwell he would be regarded with scorn
by every one, and, like Wat Snell, who had refused to meet Bart Hodge,
be ostracised in the school.
"Davis ought to fight me first," he muttered.
"Oh, hang that plebe!" cried Reynolds, contemptuously. "He doesn't
count with Merriwell. You can attend to him when you have disposed of
Merriwell. If you go into this business determined to finish the
fellow, you'll be sure to do it. Knock him out some way, fair or foul."
"I suppose a fellow might get at him foul in the dark, and not be
detected."
"Sure. Only he wants to be slick about it. Say, I can tell you a
trick."
"'Sh! Don't speak too loud; Dunnerwust and Mulloy are a little
distance behind, and they're both particular friends to Merriwell."
So Reynolds lowered his voice, and talked rapidly to Bascomb in a low
tone. The bully listened eagerly, finally slapping his thigh and
crying:
"That's the scheme! That will do it!"
"Shall I see him, and make arrangements for tonight?"
"Yes; but wait till the last minute--take him after supper."
"All right. It's settled then?"
"All settled; and Merriwell will have a dandy pair of eyes on him
to-morrow!"
Dunnerwust and Mulloy had been watching Bascomb and Reynolds.
"Vot you pelief dose shneaks vos down to, ain'd id?" asked the Dutch
boy.
"Well, Handy, me b'y," replied Barney, "it's me proivate opinion, which
Oi don't moind publicly ixprissing, thot they're plannin' mischief."
"Yaw, I pets me your boots you vos righd. Dey don'd haf their headts
togeder near vor nottings, py shimminy!"
"Oi'd loike to take th' spalpanes by th' ears an' rap their hids
togither wance," declared the Irish lad. "Oi'd make thim see stars."
At this moment Bascomb clapped his thigh and cried:
"That's the scheme! That will do it!"
"Uf dot don'd mean somedings, Parney, you vos a liar!" exclaimed Hans.
"Av course it do."
"I pelief me dot means drouble vor Frankie."
"Oi wouldn't wonder, Handy."
"You und me hat pesser dell him to keep his vedder eye vide open tight,
ain'd id?"
"Thot's pwhat we will, me b'y. An' Oi propose to watch thim spalpanes
a bit mesilf. Oi moight catch 'em at something crooked, Oi belave."
So it came about that Frank was warned that Bascomb and Reynolds had
apparently been plotting.
Frank acted as first sergeant, and that very afternoon both Bascomb and
Reynolds appeared in ranks with their belts disarranged. This was an
open defiance, and, of course, was something Merriwell could not
overlook.
"Fall out, Bascomb, and arrange your belt," he commanded, sharply.
"You, too, Reynolds. You know very well that you have no right in
ranks in that shape. Fall out!"
Bascomb and Reynolds obeyed in a sullen way, the big fellow beginning
to mutter.
Merriwell had started back to his post, but he whirled sharply, saying:
"Silence, sir! This is the third time I have been compelled to warn
you against muttering in ranks. You will be severely dealt with in
case you repeat the offense."
Once more he turned, but he had not taken five steps before he heard
some one say:
"Who's playing the bully now!"
Frank turned again, but Bascomb did not appear to have spoken, and
Reynolds looked innocent. Having fixed their belts, they were again in
ranks, standing at ease.
Not a word did Frank say, but his face expressed a great deal. No
further murmurs were heard, and the drill was soon in progress; but
Frank knew his enemies had tried to place him in a false light before
the corps.