Frank Merriwell at Yale | Page 4

through the body! Why, it would be dimply serrible--I mean simply terrible!"
"I'll have to fight him or take water. Now, Harry, old man, you don't want me to show the white feather, so go back and complete the arrangements."
"But there ought to be some other way of settling it. If you could fight him with your fists I know you'd beat him, but you don't stand a show this way."
Frank looked his roommate squarely in the eye.
"Go back and accept every proposition Ditson makes," he commanded, and Rattleton felt the influence of Merriwell's superior will.
Back he went, and it did not take the seconds long, with Bruce Browning's aid, to settle matters. Browning said he knew a nice quiet place where the duel could take place without danger of interruption, and in a short time the entire party was on the street, following the lead of the big sophomore.
Harry was at Frank's side and he was greatly agitated.
"If you are counting on Diamond backing down you'll be dadly--I mean sadly disappointed," he whispered. "That fellow doesn't know what it is to be afraid, and he'll stand up to the end."
"Keep cool," directed Frank. "He'll find there are others."
Harry gave up in despair.
"This is a terrible affair!" he muttered to himself. "It's likely to mean arrest, disgrace, imprisonment for the whole of us, if those blamed hot-headed fools don't kill each other!"
But he decided to stand by his roommate, no matter what came.
Browning led them away from the vicinity of the college buildings and down a dark street. At length they came to an old brick structure, in which not a light was to be seen. Down some slippery stone steps they went, and the big soph let them in by unlocking a door.
It was dark inside. Browning closed and locked the door, after which he conducted them along a narrow passage, opened another door, and ushered them into a room.
The smell of cigarette smoke was strong there, and Frank knew the place had been lately occupied by smokers.
A match spluttered, and then a lamp was lighted.
"Get ready for business," directed Browning. "I will bring the rapiers and another light."
Then he vanished beyond a door that opened into another dark room.
Frank looked around and saw a table, upon which were cards and empty beer bottles. There were chairs and some copies of illustrated sporting papers. The walls were bare.
It was warm down there, and Frank immediately discarded his coat.
Diamond was about to follow Merriwell's example, when there was a sudden rush of feet and the room filled in a twinkling with masked youths, who flung themselves on the astonished freshmen and made all but Frank a prisoner in a moment.
Frank instantly understood that they had been trapped and he knocked down four of his assailants before they could bear him to the floor and overpower him.
His hands were securely bound, and then he was lifted to his feet.
"Well, fellows, that was a pretty slick trick," he half laughed, as he coolly looked around. "You sophs have been trying to corral a gang of us for a week, and with the aid of the smooth Mr. Browning you succeeded very finely this time."
"Silence!" roared a deep voice, and a tall fellow in a scarlet Mephisto rig confronted Frank. "You have intruded upon forbidden ground. None but the chosen may enter here and escape with life."
"Not one!" chorused all the masks in deep and dismal unison.
Mephisto made a signal. Once more the freshmen were seized.
"Away with them!" shouted the fellow in red.
In another moment all but Frank had been hustled out of the room. Then Frank was suddenly held fast and blindfolded. He was dragged along to some place where the opening of another door brought to his ears the sound of horns and shouts of fiendish glee. He was made to mount some stairs and then his feet were kicked from beneath him, and he shot down a steep and slippery incline into the very midst of the shouting demons. He dropped through space and landed--in a vat of ice-cold water. Then he was dragged out, thumped on the head with stuffed clubs, deafened by the horns that bellowed in his ears, and tossed in a blanket till his head bumped against the ceiling. Then he was forced to crawl through a piano box that was filled with sawdust. He was pushed and pulled and hammered and thumped till he was sore in every part of his body.
All through this ordeal not a word or murmur escaped his lips. His teeth were set, and he felt that he had rather die than utter a sound that betrayed pain or agitation.
This seemed to infuriate his assailants. They banged him about till he could scarcely stand, and then, of a sudden, there was a