Thornton was at the side of his friend.
"How in the world did you happen to let him takea fall out of you in that manner?" whispered Tom, in extreme disgust.
Flemming's lips curled.
"Bah!" he returned. "He did not do it!"
"No? But you were thrown! Explain that."
"I was not thrown."
"Yes, you were, my dear fellow! Heffiner has given Merriwell credit for winning the first fall."
"I made a misjudgment in the amount of strength I should use on the fellow, and I turned myself in the air," declared Fred.
"Is it possible?"
"Of course it is!" hissed Flemming, who saw the incredulity in the face of his friend. "He is even easier fruit than I imagined."
Thornton brightened up somewhat, although not fully satisfied.
"You must not let him accomplish it this time."
"I tell you he did not accomplish it before!" came bitterly from the crestfallen and furious youth. "I will convince you of that in a moment. See the fellow stand there with that lordly air as if he had actually accomplished something. I will take all of that outof him! This is catch as we can, and I will break his back!"
"Injure his back in some way, and he will not be able to hold the place that belongs to you on the crew."
"That is right!" panted Flemming, his eyes glittering and his teeth showing. "A fellow with a sprained back is no good at an oar. Why, Thornton, my boy! Merriwell has played right into my hands! He has given me the very opportunity I most desire, and I'll be a chump if I neglect it! If he is not taken to his room on a stretcher, it will be necessary for some of his friends to aid him. I know a hug that will take the stiffness out of his spine and make him lame for a month!"
"Give it to him!" fluttered Tom, with returning confidence. "Fix the cad this time so he will not be able to wrestle any more!"
"I will, rest assured of that. This is my opportunity. In five minutes the starch will be taken out of him."
Flemming was confident, far more confident than he would have been had he dreamed that Merriwellhad turned him in the air and brought him underneath in the first fall.
In his mind he saw Merriwell groaning on the ground, saw him assisted to his room, saw him helpless in bed and attended by a physician.
But what gave Flemming the greatest satisfaction was the vision of Collingwood humbly asking him to again resume his place on the crew—the place now given to Frank Merriwell.
It seemed remarkable to Fred that he had not planned to engage the lad he hated in a wrestling match, and so injure him in such a manner that he would be unable to row on the crew.
But no less remarkable, it seemed, was the fact that he had been challenged to wrestle by Merriwell, and thus given the opportunity he most ardently desired.
The only thing that marred his satisfaction at that moment was that Merriwell had, apparently by accident, seemed to have acquired the honor of having thrown him in the first struggle.
"Gentlemen," said Heffiner, "are you ready?"
The antagonists stepped forward and signified their readiness. The spectators fell back.
"This time it is catch as you can," said Yale's famous pitcher. "Any kind of a hold is fair. Is that understood?"
"It is," nodded Merriwell.
"Certainly," bowed Flemming, giving Frank a scornful look.
"Very well, gentlemen. Prepare to clinch. Ready—go!"
Like a panther Merriwell sprang forward, but he halted quite as suddenly and stood erect, careless and disdainful.
Flemming came forward in a crouching posture. He believed he saw his opportunity, and, with a gasp of satisfaction, he darted in and caught the lad he hated about the body.
This time it was not Flemming's intention to throw Merriwell too suddenly. He wanted a little time to wrench Frank's back, and then he would cast his foe writhing and helpless at his feet.
Tom Thornton saw that Fred had obtained the hold he sought, and he mentally exclaimed:
"This time there will be no blunder!"
Jack Diamond no longer smiled. He saw that Flemming had obtained what seemed to be a great advantage, and his face was filled with concern.
"It was careless of Merriwell to give the fellow sucha hold!" thought Jack. "Flemming is sure to be the victor this time!"
There was a look of intense satisfaction on Fred Flemming's face as he made firm his clasp about Merriwell's back.
And then, just as Flemming was ready to give a bear-like hug, something happened.
Frank's right arm was bent so that his forearm came directly under Fred's chin, while his left arm was clasped across Fred's shoulders behind his back.
Merriwell gave a sudden surge, drawing Flemming close with his left arm, and thrusting back the fellow's head by pressing his right arm under his enemy's chin.
In the twinkling of an eye Flemming's wind was shut off, and his neck seemed to crack beneath the strain. He made a mad effort to hurl Merriwell to the ground, but he had delayed the attempt a moment too long.
Frank Merriwell well knew how dangerous was the trick he had played upon his enemy. He knew that he could break Flemming's neck in that manner if he desired to do so, and he was careful not to make the sudden pressure too intense.
Flemming could not breathe, and his eyes started from his head. His strength seemed to leave his body, and his struggles to throw the lad he hated were weak and ineffectual. He was like a child in the hands of Frank Merriwell.
The spectators stared in astonishment, and Diamond gasped:
"Great Cæsar! Merry purposely let Flemming get that hold!"
"Break away, Flem—break away!" cried Tom Thornton, quivering with excitement.
But Flemming could not break away, for he had not sufficient strength to do so.
"Foul!" shouted Emery, starting forward, as if he would part the combatants.
In a moment Jack Diamond's arm was extended and pressed across Emery's breast, holding him back like a bar of iron.
"There is no foul in this match!" came exultantly from the lips of the Virginian. "That was stated at the beginning."
Flemming made one last feeble struggle, and then the two lads went down together, with Fred under.They fell heavily, and Merriwell came down on his enemy with his full weight.
A moment later Frank arose.
On the turf Fred Flemming lay white and still, his eyes closed.
"Bring some water," calmly directed the victor. "I think Mr. Flemming has been stunned."
"This fall settles the match," decided Hugh Heffiner. "Frank Merriwell has won by throwing Flemming two times in succession. Permit me to congratulate you, Mr. Merriwell, for it is apparent that you are as expert in the art of wrestling as you have proved yourself to be in the other things you have attempted."
"Thank you," said Frank, simply, as he accepted Heffiner's hand.
Jack Diamond whispered in Tom Thornton's ear:
"It is your turn next!"
Diamond called on Merriwell that evening.
"You are a dandy, old man!" cried the Virginian, admiringly. "You got back at Flemming in great shape. They say he has been weak as a rag ever since you dropped him the second time, and it is pretty certain he will hold you in respect hereafter."
"I shall be satisfied if he will let me alone," said Frank, quietly. "I have no grudge against him, but the fellow who has not the nerve to fight his way in this world gets left. Life is a battle from start to finish, and the hardest fighter is the winner."
"True," nodded Jack.
"My mother was one of the gentlest women in the world," continued Merriwell. "Thoughts of strife and contention distressed her. To her a personal encounter was brutal and vulgar, and she instructed me never to fight unless absolutely compelled to do so. As far as possible I have tried to remember her teachings. I have not found it possible to do so at all times, as my enemies would ride over me if I did. When I see that a foe is determined to force me into an encounter then I become the aggressor. In another thing my mother was at fault. Many times she told me never to strike the first blow. She was wrong. Often the first blow wins the battle. If a person sees there is certain to be an encounter, he should do his best to get in the first blow, and make it a good one. Then he should not be satisfied to let it rest there till his enemy has recovered, but he should follow it up. That is my belief."
"And you are right. Old man, you have a level head. I never saw another fellow like you, Merriwell, and I doubt if there is another in the world."
Frank laughed.
"You flatter me, Diamond."
"Not at all."
"Ah, but you do. I know my own failings."
"I wonder what they are?"
"Do not think for a moment that I have no failings! I have studied my own nature, and I have discovered them. As far as possible, I seek to remedy them. To myself I am a very ordinary sort of fellow. I know it, Jack. The man who can see no flaws in himself is an egotist, a cad, and a shallow fool! As soon as he is perfectly satisfied with himself, he ceases to progress—he deteriorates."
"That is true."
"Among my friends I see many things worthy of emulation. You, my dear Diamond, are not aware of your own fine qualities, and——"
"That will do, Merry!" cried Jack, blushing. "Iam sure that I try to be a gentleman. My father was a true Southern gentleman."
"There can be no doubt of that. You show your breeding in every way. A natural gentleman will be a gentleman under any circumstances. He carries the air about him, and nothing can disguise it."
Jack sat down.
"You have squared your score with Flemming," he said; "but I have a little matter to settle with Thornton. I am wondering how I shall settle it."
"Thornton is Flemming's satellite. It would be cruel to use him roughly."
"But I will not let him off! He should be taught a lesson."
"Look here, Jack, I have a scheme."
"What is it?"
"Let's put up a racket on him."
"What sort of a racket?"
"Oh, one out of which we can get some sport and humiliate him at the same time. I am sure you do not want to fight with the fellow?"
"I have been thinking that I would be ashamed to have an encounter with him."
"Exactly so. Now, I know you are not much of a fellow for pranks, but I hope you will agree to this little scheme of mine."
"State it," said Jack, rather doubtfully.
"Well, you know Thornton considers himself something of a masher. He gets stuck on every pretty girl who smiles on him."
"Yes."
"Danny Griswold is a daisy as an impersonator of girls. You know he is to play a girl's part in one of the entertainments to be given in the fall. He has done the trick before, and he sent home for his outfit a week ago. Yesterday, while Rattleton and I were cramming for recitations the door opened, and a stunning blonde walked into the room. She seemed confused when she saw us, begged our pardon, and said she was looking for her cousin, Danny Griswold. She had entered the wrong room by accident. Harry offered to show her to Danny's rooms, but she said she could find the way. Still she was in no hurry to go, and I began to be rather nervous, for I did not fancy theidea of having a young lady without a chaperon visit us. I feared it would become known, and we would receive a reprimand. She was decidedly giddy, and she sat on the arm of the easy-chair there and giggled and said it must be so nice to be a boy and go to Yale. After a while I began to smell a rat. I got up and took a closer look at her. Say, she was gotten up in great shape! It was that little imp Griswold!"
"Well, what is your scheme?" asked Jack, smiling.
"It is to put Griswold onto Thornton. Let Danny rig up and see what he can do. It's ten to one Thornton will think he has a new mash, and then we can have any amount of sport with the fellow."
Jack looked more doubtful than ever.
"I don't see how that is getting square with him," he declared.
"If the game works, you can pretend to be in love with the same girl. You can challenge Thornton to mortal combat. He won't dare meet you. Then you can expose him, and if that will not be getting even with him I don't know how you can get even."
This scheme did not exactly meet Diamond's approval, and Frank found it difficult to induce him to agree to it. At last, however, Merriwell succeeded.
"We'll have barrels of fun out of this," laughed Frank. "I feel in need of a little fun to wake me up."
Tom Thornton was alone in his room when there came a knock on the door.
"Come in," called Tom, without turning his head or taking his feet down from the table on which they were resting.
As he had been out late the night before, he was not in a very agreeable mood. He had sent for his tailor some time before, and he supposed it was the tailor who had knocked and entered at his command.
"Well, here you are at last!" Tom growled. "I've waited long enough for you, too! You are slower that molasses in midwinter! I suppose you want to know what ails me now. Well, I'll tell you. That last pair of trousers you made me are too short in the waist and too full around the bottoms—that's what's the matter. I'd be mobbed if I should show myself in them. Now, don't tell me they are all right! I'lljust try them on right before you, and let you see—— Great Jupiter! What have I been saying!"
He had turned his head, and he saw a vision that electrified him and brought his feet down from the table with a thump.
Just within the room a very pretty girl was standing, and she was staring at him in a half-frightened, half-amused manner.
"I—I—I beg your pup-pup-pardon!" stammered Thornton, jumping up, confused and flustered. "I didn't know! I—I thought it was my tailor!"
"And you nearly frightened the senses out of me by growling at me in that way," giggled the girl. "Why, I thought you were a great horrid bear, and you were going to eat me."
"If I were a bear, I couldn't ask for a daintier meal," said Tom, gallantly.
"Oh, my!" laughed the girl. "What a difference!"
"I am bound to even matters if possible."
"That's it? Then you did not really mean what you just said, after all?"
The smile vanished from her face, and she seemed a bit offended.
"Oh, yes I did—I vow I did!" exclaimed Tom, hastening to repair the "break." "You see I am all broken up by the surprise. I—I didn't think of seeing a young lady here—alone."
"I suppose not. I am looking for my cousin, Mr. Griswold."
"Griswold? Griswold? Why, I have heard of him. Yes, he is a soph. You'll find him over in South Middle. This is Welch Hall."
"Oh, dear! Then I was misdirected. I was told I'd find him here somewhere. I beg your pardon, sir."
"Oh, don't mention it, Miss—er—Miss——"
"Darling. My name is Grace Darling, and I have come down to spend a week in New Haven. You see I am from the country."
"I should say so!" thought Thornton; "and as fresh as they make 'em! But she is pretty—yes, she is a genuine stunner! A sort of wild flower. She is so innocent and unsophisticated!"
"I presumed you were not familiar with Yale, or you would not be in the dormitories without a chaperon," said Thornton, aloud. "It is all right, though," he hastened to declare, as she seemed to shrink back. "I will escort you over to South Middle, and help you find your cousin. My name is Thornton—Thomas Thornton."
"You are very good, Mr. Thornton, but I think I can find Danny all right. I will not put you to the trouble."
"Oh, it will be no trouble—not the least in the world, I assure you."
"Still I don't know what Danny would think. Even though your company would be very pleasant, I dare not accept it without a proper introduction, Mr.—Mr. Thornton."
This was said in the most coquettish manner possible, and Tom Thornton felt his heart beating proudly.
"I've struck her all right!" he told himself. "I mustn't let it slip. I'll improve the opportunity."
So he talked to her in his most fascinating manner, and was bold enough to express a hope that he might see her again, to which she replied that he "might." And when she left Tom was in a state of delighted satisfaction, thoroughly pleased with himself.
Thornton was inclined to boast of his conquests,and it was not long before he had told several of his friends about the "corking pretty girl" who had wandered into his room.
"And I caught her without a struggle," he declared repeatedly. "Country girl and rather unsophisticated; but a regular rustic rose—no, a regular daisy. Cousin of some fellow over in South Middle. Her name? Never mind. I am not giving things away. She is going to stay down a week, and gave me her promise that I should see her again. But she intends to be strictly proper, although she does not know much of city ways, for she declared that I must be properly introduced to her before she would make an appointment with me. Oh, it's dead easy when you know how!"
Tad Horner was Thornton's roommate. "Grace Darling" had chosen an occasion when Tad was not in, and thus had found Tom alone.
Tom boasted of his conquest to Tad, who grinned and tried to chaff him about his charming country girl.
"Did she have hayseed in her hair?" asked Tad.
"It's not that kind of a lady, Horner. They'll all be envious of me. She is a stunning blonde, and herinnocent country ways make her all the more attractive. She has such eyes—and such teeth! Her lips are very inviting, my dear boy. It's just the sort of a mouth a fellow longs to kiss. And if I do not sip nectar from those ruby lips before she returns to her country home, I'll be dead slow."
"Wow!" whooped Tad. "Sip nectar! That beats! Thornton, this rural maiden has knocked you silly!"
"Wait till you see her, and you will not wonder, my boy."
"I'll go something you do not see her again."
"Oh, but I have her promise!"
"Ah, she was giving you a jolly!"
"You'll see!" cried Tom, piqued. "Just wait a while."
Two days passed, and Thornton began to think he would not hear anything from his "mash." Then came an invitation to spend an evening at Winnie Lee's, and Winnie hinted that among her guests there was to be a young lady from the country who wished to apologize for intruding upon Mr. Thornton in his room.
"It's Grace Darling!" thought Tom, exultantly. "She will be introduced to me! And she must be offine people to be accepted as a guest at Miss Lee's, for the Lees belong to theéliteof the town. Oh, Gracie is all right, if she is from the country!"
On the evening of the party Tom arrayed himself in his finest, used perfumery liberally—too liberally—on his handkerchief and his clothes, and set out with a light heart for Miss Lee's.
As old readers know, Winnie Lee and Frank Merriwell were very friendly. As Winnie was of a lively disposition and enjoyed a joke thoroughly, it was not difficult for Frank to induce her to aid him in carrying out his plan.
Winnie was all the more ready to do so because she disliked Tom Thornton, who had made himself offensive by having declared that he could "catch" her without a struggle if he so desired, but she was not his style.
This had been repeated to Winnie, and she had treated Thornton with the utmost disdain since hearing it; but Frank had urged her to consent to invite Tom to the party that the joke might be carried out, and she finally had consented.
For a moment Thornton wondered when he received the invitation, and then he decided that "Grace Darling" must have induced Miss Lee to offer it.
Tom little dreamed of the surprising events that were to take place before the evening was passed.
Thornton found Merriwell, Diamond, Rattleton and Browning were among Winnie Lee's guests. This he had expected, however, and he was resolved to notice them as little as possible.
Willis Paulding was there, and Tad Horner came later, much to Tom's surprise, as he had not known Tad had been invited.
There were a number of jolly girls, and Thornton was not long in looking around for Grace Darling.
When Tom finally discovered her, to his disgust, she was chatting with Jack Diamond in a cozy corner, which was almost shut off from the rest of the room by portières.
"Hang that fellow!" thought Thornton. "He has been introduced to her, and he has lost no time in getting in his work."
As soon as Diamond left the girl Tom hastened tofind Winnie Lee, of whom he requested an introduction to "Miss Darling."
"Oh, yes!" said Winnie, laughing; "she spoke of you, but I had almost forgotten. I trust you will find her very entertaining, Mr. Thornton."
"I am sure I shall," said Tom. "We have seen each other, you know, but have not been introduced."
"And she is very particular about that. Being bred in the country, she is not fully conversant with the ways of the world, but she knows an introduction is the proper thing, and she insists on that. There she is."
"Miss Darling" was seen chatting with a number of young gentlemen and ladies who had gathered about her.
The group scattered as Winnie and Tom came up. "Miss Darling" saw them, and timidly held her fan before her face, peering over it shyly.
"Mr. Thornton," laughed Winnie Lee, "it gives me the greatest pleasure to introduce you to Miss Darling."
Tom bowed profoundly, while the girl giggled, and made a courtesy. Winnie Lee laughed more than ever.
At a distance Frank Merriwell and Jack Diamond were watching.
"Will you see Winnie Lee!" softly exclaimed Merriwell. "She is nearly exploding with laughter. She can't hold it. It will be a miracle if Thornton does not tumble."
"All the others are laughing," said Jack. "They had to get away when Thornton was introduced. He will be crazy when he finds out how he has been fooled."
Frank was laughing.
"Oh, yes; he'll tear his hair. The story is bound to circulate. Don't give him too much time with Griswold before you get in your work and challenge him. Horner is in the game, and he has agreed to help it along."
"Thornton will murder Horner."
"It will be remarkable if they do not suddenly cease to room together."
"Have you brought the pistols?"
"You bet! Everything is ready. Willis Paulding must be involved. We must soak him, as well as Thornton. There go Thornton and his mash towardthe cozy corner. You must intrude before it becomes too warm for Griswold, or he is liable to give the whole snap away."
In the meantime Thornton had expressed his delight at meeting his charmer again, and had led her away to the very cozy corner in which he had seen her chatting so vivaciously with Jack Diamond.
Once in the corner the girl ensconced herself in the shadow of the portières, and, for the first time, the fan dropped from her face.
"This is charming," declared Thornton, in his most fascinating manner. "Ever since I first saw you I have dreamed of an occasion like this, Miss Darling."
The girl giggled.
"Oh, you are such a flatterer, Mr. Thornton!" she returned, leaning toward him.
"Not at all," declared Tom, as, apparently by accident, his hand fell on hers and remained there. "I am telling you the truth. Since that hour when fate led you to my room, I have thought of you almost constantly by day, and I have dreamed of you at night. Your face has been before my eyes continually."
Her head was bowed, so he could not see her eyes. He felt her hand quiver in his clasp.
"Oh, I am not doing a thing!" was his mental exclamation. "She can't resist me!"
He grew bolder with amazing rapidity. He seemed to fancy that he could do so with this unsophisticated country girl without being "called down."
"Miss Darling," he murmured, leaning yet nearer to her, and holding her hand with both of his own, "do you believe in love at first sight?"
She giggled again.
"Why, I don't know," she confessed.
"I do," declared Tom. "I did not till I met you, but since that delightful moment I have."
"Oh, rot!" the girl seemed to say.
"Eh?" exclaimed Thornton, in astonishment. "What did you say?"
"I said, 'I think not,'" was the laughing answer. "My cousin has told me all about college fellows, and how they pretend to be all broken up over a girl, but are giving her the dead jolly all the time."
Tom gasped, for the girl rattled off slang as if thoroughly familiar with it. But this dampened Thornton's ardor for no more than a moment.
"I never give any one a jolly, Miss Darling," he declared, trying to appear sincere. "Miss Darling!" he murmured. "What a sweet name! And it suits you so well!"
"Do you think so?" laughed the girl.
"I do—I do!" palpitated Thornton. "It will be a lucky fellow who can call you his darling! If I might——"
"Mr. Thornton, you are presuming! This is too much!"
Then Jack Diamond suddenly appeared, and asked:
"Did you call for aid, Miss Darling?"
"I was about to do so," declared the girl. "Mr. Thornton has been very presuming and forward."
"Then Mr. Thornton shall answer to me!" came sternly from Jack's lips. "If he is not a coward, he will come outside."
Tom turned pale and stammered. He felt like refusing to go outside, but he feared the girl would think him a coward. Then he looked around, and his eyes fell on Willis Paulding.
"Yes, I will go out with you," he said.
"Miss Darling" seemed to be overcome with fear.
"Don't kill him, Jack!" she whispered.
So she addressed Diamond as "Jack." That fired Thornton till he longed to strangle the Virginian.
"Lead on!" he exclaimed. "I will follow."
They left the room, Thornton calling to Willis, who followed them, wonderingly.
Diamond had made a signal to Merriwell, and Frank was not far behind.
Diamond led the way to the garden.
It was a moonlight night, and seemed almost as light as day.
"Mr. Thornton," said Diamond, sternly, "you have grossly insulted a young lady friend of mine. It is my duty to protect her. I challenge you to fight me, the weapons to be pistols, the place here, and the time now. Your answer, sir—your answer!"
Thornton turned pale, and hesitated. He knew nothing of dueling, and therefore did not know that, being the challenged party, it was his privilege to name the weapons, the time and the place.
In a moment, he found Tad Horner at his elbow.Where Tad had come from and how he happened to be there Tom could not conceive. But Tad was on hand, and he whispered:
"Take him up, old man—take him up! He is a regular fire-eater—in his mind. He thinks you will squeal. If he finds you will fight, he is sure to back out. He hasn't any real nerve. If he does fight, I'll fix it all right, for I will see that the pistols are loaded with blank cartridges. After the first shot, I will demand that the duel cease. Thus you will get the reputation of having fought a duel, without incurring any danger to yourself."
Thornton was pleased with the scheme. He wished to be considered a dare-devil sort of fellow, and he felt that it would give him a great reputation if he fought a real duel.
"Sir," he said, turning to Diamond, "I accept your challenge, and I shall do my best to shoot you through the heart!"
Five minutes later came the question:
"Gentlemen, are you ready?"
"All ready," answered both Diamond and Thornton.
"I will count three, and then give the word," said Frank Merriwell, distinctly. "One!"
Despite himself, Willis Paulding felt his flesh creep and heard his teeth chatter.
Thornton was shaking, even though he had been assured by Tad Horner that there were no bullets in the pistols.
Diamond was cool as an iceberg. The bright moonlight seemed to show a look of deadly determination on his face.
"Confound him!" thought Thornton, quaking. "He'd as lief fight a duel as eat! Hang those Southerners! They do not know what it is to be afraid!"
"Two!" counted Merriwell.
The duelists raised their weapons and seemed to take careful aim.
"Three—fire!"
At that instant there was a scream, and a female figure sprang out from the shadows and rushed before Jack just as Thornton pulled the trigger.
There was a single report, and the female figuredropped to the ground, although Diamond tried to catch her in his arms.
Thornton, the smoking pistol in his hand, stood staring, as if turned to stone.
"Good gracious!" gasped Willis Paulding. "You have shot somebody, Thornton, deah boy!"
"There must have been some mistake," said Tad Horner. "It seems that there was a bullet in your pistol, Tom!"
Thornton hurried forward and looked down at the fallen girl, whose eyes were closed, and whose face seemed ghastly pale in the white moonlight.
"It is Miss Darling!" came hoarsely from Tom. "I have killed her!"
"Don't let the murderer escape!" cried Diamond, sternly. "Seize him and his second! They are both guilty!"
"Excuse me!" fluttered Willis Paulding. "I think I will go right away, don't yer 'now!"
Then he took to his heels, and ran, as if pursued by a hundred officers of the law.
Thornton was scarcely less terrified, and he slippedaway into the shadows while the others were gathered around the fallen girl.
When both Willis and Tom were gone, the girl suddenly sat up, and burst into a peal of boyish laughter.
"There!" cried the voice of Danny Griswold; "didn't I do that all right? I wouldn't be surprised if Thornton's hair turned gray. But I'm going to get out of this rig as soon as possible. These corsets are killing me. I can't get a full breath."
"You little rascal!" laughed Frank Merriwell, as he gave Griswold a shake. "You are a born actor, and you have given Tom Thornton a shock that he will not get over for some time—to say nothing of Willis Paulding."
"If it cures Thornton of bragging about his mashes I'll be satisfied," said Tad Horner. "But I'm afraid he'll never forgive me. I'll have to make a hustle and find him before he does something desperate. I'll tell him Miss Darling simply fainted, and was not injured at all. Good-night, fellows. See you later."
Then he hastened away.
"Well, Jack," said Frank, addressing Diamond, "it strikes me that you and I are more than square with Mr. Flemming and Mr. Thornton."
"I think that is right," admitted the Virginian, with a grim smile.
All other college sports seem to grow dim in comparison with the great spring race. It is the crowning athletic event of the season. The vast gathering of people at New London occurs but once a year, and the only event to be compared with it is the annual football game in New York.
New London for a week before the race is filled with "old grads," fathers of Yale men who are interested in boating, college lads, mothers of students, sisters and sweethearts.
At Eastern Point the Fort Griswold House is thronged with persons of this sort. The Pequod is overflowing. On the broad piazzas old classmates meet and talk over former victories and defeats. There they watch the thronging craft upon the river.
Every one talks boating, whether he knows anything about it or not. "Willie off the yacht" is there, togged in flannels and making a desperate struggle to roll inhis gait. For a week, at least, he is a waterman, with the salt flavor in everything he says or does.
And the girls—the girls! They, too, dress in flannels and yachting caps, and they try to talk knowingly about "strokes," "oars" and "the crew." But they are charming—every one of them!
Yale and Harvard's quarters are on the left bank near Gale's Ferry. Many of the "old oars" are permitted to visit the crew. The great coachers are there. They are regarded with awe and respect, for surely they know everything there is to know about racing!
The race comes off at five in the afternoon. By midday the town is full, and every train brings fresh throngs of laughing girls and boisterous students. All are decorated with the blue or the crimson. Flags are everywhere, and there are horns in abundance.
At the docks the great Sound steamers are moored, and they are packed with sight-seers. There are numberless yachts on the river, all decorated with gay colors and thronged with gay parties.
Within the boathouse, preparations were being made for the race. Collingwood was giving final instructions to his men. Bastow, an old coach, was surveyingeach and every one in the most critical manner possible.
They were handsome fellows, these men of the crew. Their flesh was brown and firm, and their eyes were bright. They had broad backs and powerful shoulders.
Collingwood looked troubled. It was evident there was something on his mind. Fred Flemming, in a new spring suit, is talking with Popkay, the little cox. Some wonder that Flemming, who had been dropped for Merriwell, should be there.
Among the spectators on a certain yacht are Tom Thornton and Willis Paulding. They are watching for the crew to appear, and, as they watch, Thornton says something that betrays a knowledge of Flemming's presence in the boathouse.
"I'll go you two to one that Flem rows after all," he declares. "Do you dare take me, Paulding?"
"By the way you say that I should think you were betting on a sure thing, don't yer 'now," drawled Willis.
"I am," asserted Tom. "I have it straight that Merriwell is not in trim, and will be laid off. Flemming was called to quarters at the last moment."
"It'll be a corker on Merriwell if he is not allowed to row, by Jawve!"
"Yes; it will give me no end of satisfaction. That fellow put up the 'Grace Darling' job on me, and Diamond helped him to carry it out. I have been a guy for the whole college ever since Danny Griswold told down at Morey's how he fooled me. Some day I'll wring that little rat's neck!"
"They never could have worked the game if Horner hadn't helped them."
"Of course not; but I have cut clear of Horner. We have separated, and I never give the fellow a look when we meet. Like the other fools, he is stuck on Merriwell, and he thought he was doing something cunning when he helped them work the horse on me."
"If Merriwell doesn't row you'll have a chance to get back at them. You can say you knew it all the time, old chappie."
"Oh, he won't row to-day, and I'll rub it in when I get the opportunity."
Within the boathouse, at this very moment, Bob Collingwood was saying to Frank Merriwell:
"You cannot row in the race to-day, Merriwell. You are out of condition."
Frank turned pale.
"If you say I can't row, that settles it," he said, huskily; "but I think you are making a mistake. I can row, and I'll prove it, if you will give me the chance. You shall have no cause to complain of me."
"But I know you are not fit to pull an oar. You have tried to conceal it from me, but I know you have a felon on your hand. Am I right?"
"You are right," calmly admitted Frank; "but give me a chance, and I will row for all there is in me, even if it takes my arm off at the shoulder."
Collingwood looked into Merriwell's eyes, and what he saw there caused him to say: "All right, my boy, you shall row if we lose by it."
"If we lose the race it will not be my fault," returned Merriwell.
The Harvard cheer broke from a thousand throats as the Harvard crew came down the stream and arrived first at the start. Yale followed almost immediately, and two students who were on a trim littleyacht craned their necks and glared at the men in the boat.
Something like a groan escaped the lips of Tom Thornton, and Willis Paulding declared:
"I don't see Flemming, but Merriwell is there!"
"Yes!" grates Tom; "he has managed to keep his place somehow! Well, that settles it! Harvard will win!"
Orders were shouted, and then it was seen that both crews were "set." The men, their brown backs gleaming in the afternoon sunshine, were reaching forward at arm's length, ready for the first stroke.
A voice was heard commanding them to make ready, then came the cry: "Go!"
There was a pistol shot, and both boats darted forward. The four-mile race to the railway bridge piers of New London had begun.
In an instant the great crowd set up a wild cheering, and colors fluttered everywhere. Away went the boats, side by side. Harvard's style of rowing had changed completely from that of the previous year, when her boat had jumped at every stroke. Now her crew bentwith a long sweep that sent the boat through the water with a steady motion.
Yale used a shorter and more snappy stroke. The men seemed to have more life at the start, but it was the kind of a stroke that was sure to pump away their energy to a great extent in a long race.
But Collingwood was crafty. He knew that it would be an easy thing to take the life out of his men by steep work at the beginning, and he doubted if the advantage thus gained could be held. To a certain extent, he regulated Yale's speed by that of its rival.
In his heart Collingwood feared Harvard's new style of rowing. He was not willing to acknowledge that anything English could be superior to anything American, and yet he remembered how the freshmen of 'Umpty-eight, coached by Merriwell, had adopted something like the Oxford stroke, and had won the race from the sophomores at Lake Saltonstall. He also remembered Merriwell's hand, and he feared the fellow must give out before the finish.
If Yale could hold her own till near the end Collingwood hoped to win by a spurt. Outside of Merriwell, he felt that the crew was in perfect condition.He was sure the men were superior to those in the Harvard boat.
Harvard begins to gain. That strong, steady stroke is telling. It looks as if the crimson lads were going to pull away from the blue with ease.
Collingwood does not allow himself to get excited in the least. He keeps his men steadily at work, husbanding their strength as far as possible.
"'Rah! 'rah! 'rah! Harvard! Harvard!" roared the crowd.
Frank Merriwell was working perfectly with the rest, and no one could imagine from his appearance that every stroke seemed to drive a keen knife from his wrist to his elbow. His face was very pale, but that was all.
At the end of the first mile Harvard was two lengths in advance, and seemed to be gaining. Still Yale worked steadily, showing no signs of excitement or alarm.
The crowds on the yachts were waving hats and handkerchiefs and flags. They cheered and yelled and hooted like human beings gone mad. It was a scene of the wildest excitement.
It had become plain to all, despite the fact that Harvard had a lead, that the race was to be a stern one. Yale was out to win, if such a thing "lay in the wood."
When the second mile was passed Harvard was still another length in advance. But Yale was beginning to work up steadily, forcing Harvard to a more desperate struggle to hold her advantage.
When the two and a half mile flag was passed it was seen that Yale had begun to creep up. Still she was not dangerous. Her friends were encouraged, however, and the sound all Yale men love—the Yale yell—could be heard above the roaring of the crowd.
That sound seemed to put fresh life and heart into the Yale crew. At the beginning of the last mile Harvard was scarcely two lengths in advance.
It was a wonderful race. The excitement was at the highest pitch.
The Harvard crew, although it had started out so beautifully, had not the stamina to endure the strain. No. 3 was pulling out of the boat, while No. 5 showed signs of distress.
Yale begins to spurt. Her men are working like machinery. No one could dream that one of themwas suffering the tortures of a being on the rack, and still such was the truth.
A hundred times it seemed to Frank Merriwell that he must give out; a hundred times he set his teeth and vowed that he would die before he would weaken. No one could know the almost superhuman courage and fortitude which enabled him to keep up and continue his work in the proper manner. Those who watched the crew closely fancied that he worked with the utmost ease, for all of the long pull.
Collingwood had forgotten Merriwell's felon. He was reckoning on the final spurt to bring "Old Eli" to the front. Harder and harder he worked his men.
Now the uproar along the river was deafening. The prow of the Yale boat was at Harvard's stern—and then Yale began to creep along by Harvard's side.
No. 7 of the Harvard crew reeled on his seat. Then he braced up and went at it again. But he was not in stroke. The faces of both crews were set. They were like gladiators battling for their very lives.
In the Yale boat was one who seemed to be growing blind and numb. In his heart he was praying for strength as earnestly as he would have prayed for thesalvation of his soul. Only a few moments more—he must hold out.
The boats were side by side, and the excitement was simply indescribable. Such a finish was unprecedented. It was a race to be remembered for all years to come—to be spoken of with pride and discussed with wonder.
Then came the moment when Collingwood drove his men for all there was in them. He was pitiless, and Yale shot into the lead.
The line was crossed. Then cannons boomed and whistles shrieked. But in the Yale boat was one whose ears were deaf to all this tumult of sound.
Frank Merriwell had fallen in the bottom of the boat in a dead faint.
But Yale—Yale had won!