Book: Frank Merriwell at Yale

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[Illustration: "He finally found himself slugged under the ear and sent
flying over a chair."]




FRANK MERRIWELL
AT YALE

BY

BURT L STANDISH




1903




CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I--Trouble Brewing
II--Challenged and Hazed
III--The Blow
IV--The Fight
V--The Finish
VI--A Fresh Council
VII--A Surprise
VIII--The "Roast" at East Rock
IX--The Duel
X--At Morey's
XI--"Lambda Chi!"
XII--Freshman Against Sophomore
XIII--Jubilant Freshmen
XIV--The Rush
XV--On the Ball Field
XVI--To Break an Enemy's Wrist
XVII--Talking it Over
XVIII--Merriwell and Rattleton
XIX--Who is the Traitor?
XX--A Hot Chase
XXI--Roast Turkey
XXII--A Surprise for Frank
XXIII--The Yale Spirit
XXIV--Gordon Expresses Himself
XXV--The Traitor Discovered
XXVI--The Race
XXVII--A Change of Pitchers
XXVIII--The Game Grows Hotter
XXIX--The End of the Game
XXX--Rattleton is Excited
XXXI--What Ditson Wanted
XXXII--Ditson is Trapped
XXXIII--"Play Ball"
XXXIV--A Hot Finish





FRANK MERRIWELL AT YALE,



CHAPTER I.

TROUBLE BREWING.


"Here's to good old Yale--drink it down!
Here's to good old Yale--drink it down!
Here's to good old Yale,
She's so hearty and so hale--
Drink it down! Drink it down! down! down!"

From the open window of his rooms on York Street Frank Merriwell heard
the distant chorus of a rollicking band of students who had been having
a merry evening in town.

Frank had passed his examinations successfully and had been admitted as
a student at Yale. In order to accomplish this without taking a
preparatory course at Phillips Academy, he had found it necessary to
vigorously "brush up" the knowledge he had acquired at the Fardale
Military Academy which was a college preparatory school.

Professor Scotch, Frank's guardian, had been of great assistance to him,
for the professor knew just about what would be required at the
entrance examination, and he had kept the boy digging away away at the
propositions in the First Book of Euclid, had drilled him in Caesar,
caused him to spend weary hours over Virgil and the Iliad, and made him
not a little weary of his Xenophon.

As he passed without a condition, although he had been told again and
again that a course at Phillips Academy was almost an absolute
necessity, Frank was decidedly grateful to the professor.

Professor Scotch's anxiety had brought him to New Haven, where he
remained "till the agony was over," as Frank expressed it. The little
man bubbled over with delight when he found his _protege_ had gone
through without a struggle.

Having secured the rooms on York Street, the professor saw Frank
comfortably settled, and then, before taking his departure, he attempted
to give the boy some wholesome advice.

"Don't try to put on many frills here the first year," he said. "You
will find that freshmen do not cut much of a figure here. It doesn't
make any difference what you have done or what you have been elsewhere,
you will have to establish a record by what you do and what you become
here. You'll find these fellows here won't care a rap if you have
discovered the North Pole or circumnavigated the globe in--er--ah--ten
days. It will be all the better for you if you do not let them know you
are rich in your own name and have traveled in South America, Africa,
Europe, and other countries. They'd think you were bragging or lying if
you mentioned it, and--"

"You know well enough that I am not given to boasting about myself,
professor, and so you are wasting your breath," said Frank, rather
resentfully.

"Hum! ha! Don't fly off the handle--keep cool. I know you have sand, and
you're made of the right kind of stuff; but you are the greatest hand to
get into scrapes I ever saw, and a little advice won't do you any harm.
You will find that in many things you cannot do just as you would like,
so you must--"

"I'll get into the game all right, so don't worry. You will remember
that I did fairly well at Fardale, and you should not worry about me
while I am here."

"I will not. You did well at Fardale--that's right. You were the most
popular boy in the academy; but you will find Yale is far different from
Fardale."

So the professor took his departure, and Frank was left to begin life at
college.

His roommate was a rollicking, headstrong, thoughtless young fellow from
Ohio. Harry Rattleton was his name, and it seemed to fit him perfectly.
He had a way of speaking rapidly and heedlessly and turning his
expressions end for end.

Frank had been able to assist Harry at examination. Harry and Frank
were seated close to each other, and when it was all over and the two
boys knew they had passed all right, Harry came to Frank, held out his
hand, and said:

"I believe your name is Merriwell. Mine is Rattleton and I am from Ohio.
Merriwell, you are a brick, and I am much obliged to you. Let's room
together. What do you say?"

"I am agreeable," smiled Frank.

That was the way Frank found his roommate.

Harry was interested in sports and athletics, and he confided to Frank
that he was bound to make a try for both the baseball and football
teams. He had brought a set of boxing gloves, foils, and a number of
sporting pictures. The foils were crossed above the mantel and the
pictures were hung about the walls, but he insisted on putting on the
gloves with Frank before hanging them up where they would be ornamental.

"I've taken twenty lessons, old man," he said, "and I want to point you
a few shows--I mean show you a few points. We'll practice every day, and
I'll bet in less than ten weeks I'll have you so you'll be able to hold
your own with any fellow of your age and weight. Ever had the gloves
on?"

"A few times," answered Frank, with a quiet smile.

"That's all the better. I won't have to show you how to start in. Here,
here--that hand goes on the other glove--I mean that glove goes on the
other hand. That's the way. Now we're off. Left forward foot--er, left
foot forward. Hold your guard this way. Now hit me if you can."

Almost like a flash of lightning Frank's glove shot out, and he caused
the glove to snap on Harry's nose.

"Whee jiz--I mean jee whiz!" gasped the astonished boy from Ohio.
"You're quick! But it was an accident; you can't do it again."

He had scarcely uttered the words before Frank feinted and then shot in
a sharp one under Harry's uplifted guard.

"Great Scott! You do know some tricks! I'll bet you think you can box!
Well, I'll have to drive that head out of your notion--I mean that
notion out of your head. Look out for me now! I'm coming!"

Then Harry Rattleton sailed into Frank and met with the greatest
surprise of his life, for he found he could not touch Merriwell, and he
was beaten and hammered and battered about the room till he finally felt
himself slugged under the ear and sent flying over a chair, to land in a
heap in one corner of the room. He sat up and held his gloved hand to
his ear, which was ringing with a hundred clanging bells, while he
stared astounded at his roommate.

"Wow!" he gurgled. "What have I been up against? Are you a prize
fighter in disguise?"

That experience was enough to satisfy him that Frank Merriwell knew a
great deal more than he did about boxing.

As Frank sat by his window listening to the singing, on the evening that
this story opens, he was wondering where Harry could be, for his
roommate had been away since shortly after supper.

Frank knew the merry singers were sophomores, the malicious and
unrelenting foes of all freshmen. He would have given not a little had
he been able to join them in their songs, but he knew that was not to be
thought of for a moment.

As he continued to listen, a clear tenor voice struck into that most
beautiful of college songs when heard from a distance:

"When the matin bell is ringing,
U-ra-li-o, U-ra-li-o,
From my rushy pallet springing,
U-ra-li-o, U-ra-li-o,
Fresh as the morning light forth I sally,
With my sickle bright thro' the valley,
To my dear one gayly singing,
U-ra-li-o, U-ra-li-o."

Then seven or eight strong musical young voices came in on the warbling
chorus, and the boy at the window listened enchanted and enraptured,
feeling the subtle charm of it all and blessing fortune that he was a
youth and a student at Yale.

The charm of the new life he had entered upon was strong, and it was
weaving its spell about him--the spell which makes old Yale so dear to
all who are fortunate enough to claim her as their _alma mater_. He
continued to listen, eagerly drinking in the rest of the song as it came
through the clear evening air:

"When the day is closing o'er us,
U-ra-li-o, U-ra-li-o,
And the landscape fades before us,
U-ra-li-o, U-ra-li-o,
When our merry men quit their mowing,
And along the glen horns are blowing,
Sweetly then we'll raise the chorus,
U-ra-li-o, U-ra-li-o."

The warbling song died out in the distance, there was a rush of feet
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 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 great hush,
while a terrible voice croaked:

"Bring forth the guillotine!"

There was a bustle, and then the bandage was stripped from Frank's eyes,
he was tripped up, and a second later found himself lying helpless with
his neck in the socket of a mock guillotine. Above him was suspended a
huge gleaming knife that seemed to tremble, as if about to fall. At his
side was a fellow dressed in the somber garments of an executioner.

It was really a severe strain upon his nerves, but still his teeth were
clinched, and not a sound came from his lips.

"The knife is broken," whispered the mock executioner in Frank's ear,
"so it may accidentally fall and cut you."

"Have you any last message, fresh?" hoarsely whispered the mock
executioner. "There might be a fatal accident."

Frank made no reply save to wink tauntingly at the fellow.

The next instant, with a nerve-breaking swish, the shining blade fell!

A piece of ice was drawn across Frank's throat and a stream of warm
water squirted down his back.

It was most horribly real and awful, and for a moment it seemed that the
knife had actually done the frightful deed.

Despite his wonderful nerve, Frank gasped; but he quickly saw that the
knife had swung aside and his head was still attached to his body.

Then he forced a derisive laugh from his lips, and seemed not the least
disturbed, much to the disgust of the assembly.

"Confound him!" growled a voice, which Frank fancied he recognized as
belonging to Browning. "There's no fun in him. Let's try another."

Then Frank was lifted to his feet and assisted to don his coat.

"If you want to stay and see the fun, put on a mask," directed Mephisto.
"You must not be recognized by the other freshies."

He was given a mask and he put it on as directed.

A moment later the masked youths began to howl and blow horns. A door
opened, and Diamond, blindfolded and bound, was led into the room.

The young Virginian stood up haughtily, and he was seen to strain and
struggle in an effort to free his hands.

"I protest against this outrage!" he cried, angrily. "I want you to know
that my father--"

The horns and the shouts drowned his words. He was forced to mount the
steps to a high platform, and an instant later he found himself shooting
down a slippery incline of planed and greased boards.

The racket stopped as Diamond scooted down the slippery surface. He
dropped sprawling into the vat of icy water. Several hands caught hold
of him, yanked him up, and thrust him down again.

"Oh, somebody shall suffer for this!" gurgled the helpless freshman,
spluttering water from his mouth.

He was dragged out of the vat, and then he was forced to endure all the
hustling, and thumping, and banging which Frank Merriwell had passed
through. His protests seemed to fall on deaf ears.

It had been reported that Diamond had declared that the sophomores would
not dare to haze him, as his father would make it hot for them if they
did. The report was remembered, and he was used more severely than Frank
had been.

Hazing at Yale was said to be a thing of the past, but Frank saw it was
still carried on secretly.

"Make a speech, fresh!" shouted a voice.

"Speech! speech!" yelled the masked lads.

Diamond was placed on a low table.

For a moment he hesitated, and then he fancied he saw his opportunity to
make a protest that would be heard.

"I will make a speech," he declared. "I'll tell you young ruffians what
I think of you and what--"

Swish! a sponge that was dripping with dirty water struck him square in
the mouth. Some of the water went down his throat, and he choked and
strangled.

The table was jerked from beneath his feet, and he fell into the waiting
arms of the masked sophomores.

"He called us ruffians! Give it to him!"

Then the unfortunate freshman was used worse than ever. He was tossed in
a blanket, given a powerful shock of electricity, deafened by the horns,
pounded with the stuffed clubs, and hustled till there was scarcely any
breath left in his body.

Then the bandage was torn from Diamond's eyes and he was confronted by
the guillotine, over which fresh red ink had been liberally spattered.
The blade of the huge knife was dripping in a gory manner, and it really
looked as if it had just completed a deadly piece of work.

Despite himself, the young Virginian shivered when his eyes rested on
the apparently blood-stained blade.

"Be careful!" some one distinctly whispered. "We do not want to kill
more than one freshman in a night."

Some one else spoke of the frightful manner in which the knife had cut
Merriwell, and then, despite his feeble struggles, Diamond was placed
upon the instrument of torture.

"The other fresh died game," muttered the executioner. "Of course we
didn't mean to kill him, but the knife is out of order and it slipped by
accident. We haven't time to fix it properly, but there are only about
nine chances out of ten that it will fall again."

"Oh, you fellows shall pay for this!" feebly gasped Diamond.

Despite himself, although he knew how unlikely such a thing was, he
could not help wondering if a terrible accident had really happened. If
not, where was Merriwell. He looked around, but saw nothing of Frank,
who was keeping in the background.

And then, when his nerves had been quite unstrung, the knife fell, the
ice and warm water were applied, and Diamond could not choke back the
cry of horror that forced itself from his lips.

A roar of laughter broke from the masked students.

When Diamond was lifted to his feet he was almost too weak to stand. He
clinched his teeth, vowing over and over to himself that he would find a
way to square accounts.

"If it takes me a year, I'll find out who the leaders in this affair
are, and they shall suffer for it!" he thought.

"Give him a chance to see the others put through the mill," said
Mephisto, and Diamond's hands were released.

The Virginian looked around, seeming irresolute for a moment. Not far
away he saw a masked lad whose clothes were wet and bedaubed with dirt
and sawdust.

In an instant Diamond sprang toward this person and snatched the mask
from his face.

"It's Merriwell!" he triumphantly shouted, "and he has helped to haze
me! His career at Yale will be suddenly cut short!"




CHAPTER III.

THE BLOW.


There was a sudden hush. The students saw that Diamond was really
revengeful, and his words seemed to indicate that he intended to report
any one whose identity he discovered.

The Virginian was pale and he trembled with anger.

"You don't mean to say that you will blow, do you?" asked one.

"That's exactly what I do mean, sir!" came resolutely from the lips of
the infuriated freshman. "I am a gentleman and the son of a gentleman,
and I'll never stand it to be treated like a cur. Hazing is said to be
no longer tolerated here, and an investigation is certain to follow my
report of this affair."

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