Frank Merriwell at Yale | Page 3

outside the door, and Harry, breathless and excited, came bursting into the room.
"I say, old man," he cried, "what do I think?"
"Really, I don't know," laughed Frank. "What do you think?"
"I--I mean wh-what do you think?" spluttered Harry.
"Why, I think a great many things. What's up, anyway?"
"You know Diamond?"
"The fellow they call Jack?"
"Yes."
"I should say so! It was his bull pup that chewed a piece out of the leg of my trousers. I kicked the dog downstairs, and Diamond came near having a fit over it. He's got a peppery temper, and he was ready to murder me. I reckon he thought I should have taken off my trousers and given them to the dog to chew."
"He's a Southerner--from Virginia. He's a dangerous chap, Frank--just as lief eat as fight--I mean fight as eat. He's been in town to-night, drinking beer with the boys, and he's in a mighty ugly mood. He says you insulted him."
"Is that so?"
"It's just so, and he's going to dallenge you to a chewel--I mean challenge you to a duel."
Frank whistled softly, elevating his brows a bit.
"What sort of a duel?" he asked.
"Why, a regular duel with deadly weapons. He's awfully in earnest, Frank, and he means to kill you if you don't apologize. All the fellows are backing him; they think you will not fight."
"Is that so? Looking for me to show the white feather, are they? Well, I like that!"
"But you can't fight him! I tell you he's a fire eater! I've heard that his father killed a man in a duel."
"And that makes the son dangerous! No, Harry, I can't afford to--What's all that racket?"
The sound of voices and of many feet ascending the stairs could be heard. Harry turned pale.
"They're coming, Frank!" he exclaimed. "It's the whole gang, and Diamond is with them. He means to force you to fight or squeal!"
CHAPTER II.
CHALLENGED AND HAZED.
The voices were hushed, the feet halted in the hall, and then there was a sharp knock on the door.
Before Harry could reach the door Frank called out:
"Come in."
Open flew the door, and there stood the tall, straight, dark-eyed Southerner, with half a dozen other fellows behind him.
"Mr. Merriwell," said Diamond, stiffly, "I have called to see you on a very important matter, sir."
"Walk right in," invited Frank, rising to receive them. "Bring your friends in. State your business, Mr. Diamond."
The party came trooping in, and Frank was not a little astonished to observe among them Bruce Browning, a big, strong, lazy sophomore, a fellow who was known to be a great hand to plan deviltry which was usually carried into execution by his friends. As for Browning, he was not given to exerting himself when he could avoid it.
That a soph should associate with a party of freshmen seemed but a little short of marvelous, and Frank instantly scented "a job." Believing he had been singled out for the party to "jolly," his blood was up in a moment, and he resolved to show them that he was not "easy."
Jack Diamond drew himself up, his eyes fastened threateningly on Frank, and said:
"Sir, you had the impudence to kick my dog, and when I remonstrated with you, you insulted me. I demand an apology before these gentlemen."
Frank held himself in check; he appeared as cool as an iceberg.
"Sir," he said, "your confounded dog spoiled a pair of ten-dollar trousers for me, and I demand another pair--or satisfaction."
Harry Rattleton caught his breath. Was Merriwell crazy? He started forward, as if to intervene, but Diamond, his eyes blazing, motioned him back.
"Very well, sir," said the Southerner, addressing Frank, "you shall have all the satisfaction you desire. Mr. Ditson will represent me."
Roland Ditson pressed forward. He was a loud-voiced youth who wore loud clothes and sported a large amount of jewelry.
"Name your second, Merriwell," he said in an authoritative way. "We want to settle this matter as soon as possible."
Frank named Harry, and the seconds conferred together.
Merriwell sat down and coolly awaited the result, with his hands in his pockets. Diamond drew aside, his friends gathering about him. Bruce Browning interested himself in what was passing between Rattleton and Ditson, and it was plain that he was urging them to do something.
After a few minutes Harry approached Frank, a troubled look on his face.
"It's an outrage!" he indignantly exclaimed. "Ditson insists that it be a degular ruel--I mean a regular duel with rapiers. He says you gave the challenge, and so Diamond has the right to name the weapons. Such a thing can't take place!"
"Oh, yes, it can," said Frank, coolly. "Accept the proposition and have the affair come off as soon as possible."
"But, Frank, think of it! I'll bet Diamond is an expert swordsman, and he's just the kind of a chap to lose his head and run you