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Frank Merriwell at Yale; Or, Freshman Against Freshman

<h2> CHAPTER X. </h2> <h3> AT MOREY'S. </h3>  "Say, fellows, this thing must stop!" Puss Parker banged his fist down upon the table as he made this emphatic declaration, the blow causing the partly emptied glass of ale to dance and vibrate. "Aw, say," yawned Willis Paulding, "you want to be a little cawful or you will slop the good stuff, don't yer know." Willis affected a drawl, had his clothes made in London, and considered himself "deucedly English," although he sometimes forgot himself for a short time and dropped his mannerisms. Tad Horner gave Paulding a look of scorn. "Come off your perch, Paul!" he invited. "You give me severe pains! Get onto yourself! I don't wonder Parker is excited over this matter." "Who wouldn't be excited?" exclaimed Puss. "These confounded freshmen have overthrown all the established customs of the college. They have been running things with a high hand. Why, they have really been cocks of the walk ever since that little affair out at East Rock." "'Sh!" cautioned Punch Swallows, a lad with fiery red hair. "Don't speak of that, for the love of goodness! Just think of a gang of sophs being captured by freshmen disguised as Indians, taken out into the country, tied to stakes and nearly roasted, while the freshmen dance a gleeful cancan around them! It's awful! The mere thought of it gives me nervous prostration!" It was two weeks after the duel, and the five sophomores had gathered in the little back room at Morey's, They looked at each other and were silent, but their silence was very suggestive. "By Jawve!" drawled Paulding, "it is awful! I wasn't in the crowd. If I had been—" "You'd been roasted like the rest of us," cut in Parker. "But I'd made it warm faw some of the blooming cads." "Haven't we been doing our level best to make it warm for them?" cried Horner. "But no matter what we do, they see us and go us one better." "It all comes from Merriwell," asserted Swallows. "He's king of the freshmen, the same as Browning is king of the sophomores." "And he's a terror," nodded Horner. "He can put up more jokes than one." "And they say he can fight." "They say! Why, didn't you see him do Diamond, the fresh from Virginia? Oh, no. I remember you were not with us that night. Yes, he can fight, and he doesn't seem to be easily scared." "I think he is a blawsted upstart," said Paulding, lazily puffing at his cigarette. "He needs to be called down, don't yer know." "Some time when he is upstairs, call him down," suggested Horner. "Fists are not the only things that fellows can fight with," said Parker. "The matter has been kept quiet, but it is said to be a fact that Diamond forced him into a duel with rapiers, and he disarmed the Southerner twice, having him completely at his mercy each time." "And Diamond prides himself on being an expert with that kind of weapon," nodded Horner. "Why doesn't Browning do something?" asked Paulding. "It is outrageous faw a lot of freshies to run things this way." "Browning is in training," said Parker. "In training? What faw? Why, he is so lazy—" "He's training to get some of the flesh off him. It is my opinion that somebody must check Merriwell's wild career, and he is getting in condition to do it. You know that Browning was one of the hardest men who ever entered Yale. He is a natural athlete, but he's lazy, and he has allowed himself to become soft. Why, he knocked out Kid Lajoie, the professional, in a hard-glove contest of three rounds. Lajoie was easy fruit for him. I fancy he means to go up against this fresh duck Merriwell and do him. That's the only thing that will pull Merriwell off his perch. He doesn't mind being hazed." "Doesn't mind it!" shouted Horner. "Confound him! He always manages to turn the tables in some way, and hazes the parties who try to haze him." Two youths came in from the front room. "Hey, Browning! Hello, King! Come join us. You, too, Emery"—to the other fellow. "What'll you have, Browning?" Browning accepted a seat at the table, but waved his hand languidly as he declined to drink. "I'm not taking anything now," he said. "Oh, but you must! Have some ale, old man." "Excuse me, gentlemen. I tell you squarely that I am not taking anything just now. By and by I will be with you again. Emery will go you one. That's what he came in for." "That's right," declared Browning's companion. "I was out stargazing last night. Looked at the Long-Handled Dipper a long time, and it gave me an awful thirst. I've had it with me all day. Yes, mine's ale." So another round was ordered. Horner passed around the cigarettes, and Browning declined them. The others lighted up fresh ones. "Say," broke out Emery, suddenly, "do you know that fresh Ditson gives me that tired feeling?" Tad Horner grinned. "He's no good," said Tad. "He is crooked and he's a toucher. Touched me for a V once, and I am looking for that fiver yet. That was two years ago, before I came here. I knew him then." "He tried to touch us for a drink as we came along," said Browning. "I took him in here once, but I've been sorry ever since. He said he had his thirst with him just now. I told him to go sit on the fence and let the wind blow him off." "And he is a big bluff," asserted Emery. "The other day he was telling how he once sat at the table with kings and queens. I told him that I had—and with jacks and ten spots. Here comes the amber. My! I won't do a thing to it!" The waiter placed the glasses of ale before them, and Emery eagerly grasped his. "Here's more to-morrow," was his toast, and he seemed to toss it off at a single swallow. "By Jawve!" drawled Paulding. "You must be thirsty!" "I am. Have been all day, as I said before. It was hard stuff last night, and we went the rounds. My head needed hooping when I arose from my downy couch this morning." "Well, you shouldn't have gotten intoxicated, in the first place," said Parker. "I didn't. It was in the last place. If I'd gone home before we struck that joint I'd been all right." "Wow!" whooped Tad Horner. "You seem full of 'em!" "Oh, I am. I've been eating nothing but red pepper lately, and I'm hot stuff. Let's have another one all around." More ale was ordered. "Your neck must be dry enough to squeak, old man," said Parker, addressing Browning. "It doesn't seem natural for you to go thirsty. Won't you have just one?" "Not one," smiled Bruce, lazily. "I've got too much flesh on me now, and I'm trying to get some of it off." "Going to try for the football team—or what?" "Nothing of that sort—but I have a reason." "We know." "You do?" "Sure." "What is it?" "You're laying for Merriwell, and you mean to do him. I am right, am I not?" The king of the sophomores smiled in a lazy way, but did not reply. "That settles it," laughed Parker. "I knew I was right. Well, somebody must curry that young colt down and it must be done right away." Browning showed sudden animation. He looked around at the faces of his companions and then said: "This crowd is straight, and I am going to make a few remarks right here and now. I feel just like it." "Drive ahead." "Go on." "We are listening." "I am not inclined to talk this matter over publicly," said Bruce, "but I will say that the time is ripe to get after these confounded freshmen, and we must do it. I want to tell you what I found this morning. Open wide your ears and listen to this." His companions were quite prepared to listen. "You know I am getting up every morning and taking a stiff walk. I turn out at daybreak." "Good gracious!" gasped Tad Horner. "How do you do it?" "Well, I've got one of those electric alarm clocks, and I put it just as far away from my bed as possible." "Why is that?" "So I won't get hold of it and smash thunder out of the thing when it gets to going. You know it won't stop its racket till somebody stops it or it is run down, and it takes an hour for it to run down after it starts in to ring you up." "By Jawve!" drawled Paulding; "I hawdly think I'd like to have one of the blooming things in my room." "I don't like to have one in my room, but it is absolutely necessary that I do. Hartwick, my roommate, admires it!" The listeners laughed. "I should think he might," said Puss Parker. "He's got a temper with an edge like a cold-chisel." "Oh, yes, he admires it! I've got so I believe I should sleep right through the racket, but he kicks me out of bed and howls for me to smother the thing. So you see I am bound to get up at the proper time. Once I am out of bed, I stay up. The first morning after I bought the clock the thing went off just as it was beginning to break day. I got up and stopped it and then went back to bed. Hartwick growled, but we both went to sleep. I had been snoozing about five minutes when the clock broke loose once more. Hartwick was mad, you bet! I opened my eyes just in time to see him sit up in bed with one of his shoes in his hand. Whiz! Before I could stop him he flung the shoe at the clock. I made a wild grab just as he did so, struck his arm, and disconcerted his aim. The shoe flew off sideways and smashed a mirror. Hartwick said several things. Then I got up and stopped the clock again. I dressed and went out for my walk, leaving Hartwick in bed, sleeping sweetly. When I came back I found him, about half dressed, jumping wildly up and down in the middle of the bed, upon which was heaped all the bedclothes, all of Hartwick's clothes except those he had on, all of mine, except those I was wearing, and as I appeared he shrieked for me to tear down the window shades and pass them to him quick. "'What's the matter?' I gasped. 'Are you mad?' "'Yes, I am mad!' he howled, tearing his hair. 'I am so blamed mad that I don't know where I am at!' "'But what's the matter?' "'Matter! Matter! Hear it! Hear the daddly thing! It has driven me to the verge of insanity! I tried to stop it, but I couldn't find how it works. And now I am trying to stifle it! Hear it! Oh, bring me a club! Bring me something deadly! Bring me a gun, and I will shoot it full of holes!' "Then I found that I could hear my clock merrily rattling away under that heap of clothes. It seemed to be defying Hartwick or laughing at him. "I got him off the bed, pawed around till I found the clock between the mattresses, and then stopped it. Hartwick offered me three times what it was worth if I'd let him use his baseball bat on it. I told him it seemed to be a very willing and industrious alarm clock, and it was mine. I warned him to injure it at his peril. Since then I have learned how to stop it so it will stay stopped, but it barely commences to rattle at daybreak when I feel Hartwick's feet strike me in the small of the back, and I land sprawling on the floor. That explains how I succeed in getting up at daybreak." "You started in to tell us what you found this morning," said Punch Swallows, to Browning, lighting a fresh cigarette. "So I did, and the alarm clock ran me off the trail. Well, I got up this morning as usual—when Hartwick kicked me out to stop the clock. I went out for my walk and crossed the campus. What do you think I found?" "A diamond ring. We'll all have ale." "Oh, no, Tad, it wasn't a diamond ring. I noticed something stuck up on one of the trees. It was a big sheet of paper, and on it was skillfully lettered these words: "'Bruce Browning will wear a new set of false teeth to chapel to-morrow morning.'" Browning stopped and looked around. He was very proud of his even, regular, white teeth. They were so perfect that they might be taken for "store teeth" at first glance, but a second look would show they were natural. The sophs laughed, and Bruce looked indignant. "That caused me to look still further," he went on, "and I soon found another sheet upon another tree. This is what I read: "'Conundrum. Why is King Browning a great electrician? Because all his clothes are charged.' "By that time I felt like murdering somebody. I did take a morning walk, but it was in search of more stuff of the same order. I found it everywhere in the vicinity of the college, and some of the stuff was simply awful. It made me shudder. I knew who was back of it all. Merriwell put up the job." "But you outwitted him by getting around in time to tear down everything he had put up. You matched him that time." "By accident. But I must more than match him. He must be suppressed." "That's right! that's right!" cried the boys in chorus. "I know he put the advertisement for black and white cats and yellow dogs in the papers. My name was signed to it, and more than two hundred black and white cats and yellow dogs were brought me by parties anxious to sell them at any price. One time there were seven women with cats in my room, when two men came up leading dogs. The first woman had managed to get into the room, and while I was arguing with her, trying to convince her that I did not want her blamed old cat, the others found their way in. They opened on me altogether. Hartwick shut himself in the clothespress, and I could hear him laughing and gasping for breath. I was nearly crazy when the men sauntered in with the dogs in tow. Oh, say!" Browning fell over limply in his chair, as if the memory of what followed was too much for him. "You have had a real warm time of it," grinned Swallows. "Warm! Warm! My boy, it was warm! Two of the women were showing me their cats. The dogs saw the cats; the cats saw the dogs. One of the cats made a flying leap for a dog. The other fled, and the other dog pursued. The seven women shrieked all together, and the two men swore and tried to catch the dogs. The other cats escaped from the baskets in which they were confined. Warm! Say!" The king of the sophomores mopped his face with his handkerchief. He seemed on the verge of utter collapse. The listening lads could not entirely restrain their laughter. The picture Browning presented and the incident he was relating were altogether too ludicrous. "Talk about rackets!" he wearily continued; "we had one then and there. The cats yowled and the dogs howled. The women fell over each other and screamed blue murder. The men chased the dogs and roared blue blazes. And the wind blew hard! "One of the cats alighted on an old lady's head. The cat's mistress grabbed her and took her away. The cat had socked her claws into the old lady's wig, and it came off, leaving her almost as bare as a billiard ball. Oh, marmer! "Two of the cats fell to tearing the fur out of each other. Some of them walked on the ceiling, like flies, in their endeavors to get away from the dogs. One of them pounced on a dog's back and rode him around the room, as if she were a circus performer. The other dog chased a cat under the bed, and they were having it there. Oh, they didn't do a thing—not a thing! "After a while one of the men captured one of the dogs and dragged him toward the door. The other man saw him and made a rush for him. 'Drop that dawg!' he yelled. 'It's my dawg!' the other man yelled back. And then the other man howled, 'You're another. It's my dawg!' "Right away after that there was trouble between the owners of the dogs. They tried to hurt each other, and they succeeded very well. One of them had both eyes blacked, while the other lost two teeth, had his lips split and his nose knocked out of plumb. But they smashed the stuffing out of the furniture while they were doing it. "I climbed up on something in one corner and did my best to cheer them on. I sincerely hoped both would be killed. The dogs seemed to feel it their duty to enter into the spirit of the occasion, and they chewed each other more or less. "Then the police came in. I came near landing in the station house, along with the two men who were fighting, but they concluded not to pinch me. The women departed after having once more expressed their opinion all around concerning me. "When they were gone Hartwick came out of the clothespress. We sat down amid the ruins and said over some words that will not bear repetition. "That's the whole of the cat-and-dog story. I've never been able to prove that Merriwell put the advertisement into the paper, but it is all settled in my mind. It was directly after this that I went into training." Some of the sophs laughed and some showed indignation. "It was a very nawsty thing to do," declared Paulding. "I can't help laughing over it." chuckled Tad Horner. "But of course you ought to get back at Merriwell." "Well, I shall do my best." "I don't think you need to train to do that trick," said Punch Swallows. "A man who can knock out Kid Lajoie ought to polish off a freshman in a minute." "You haven't seen Merriwell fight?" "No." "I have." "He is clever?" "He is a corker. Of course I believe I can do him, but I want to do him easy, and that is why I am training." Another party of sophomores came in. "It is Harrison and his crowd," said Parker, "and I'm blowed if they haven't got Roll Ditson with them! That cad of a freshman has succeeded in getting in here again." "Ditson hates Merriwell, don't yer know," said Paulding. "He pretends to be friendly with Merry, but he's ready to do him any time."       <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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