Book: Frank Merriwell at Yale

B >> Burt L. Standish >> Frank Merriwell at Yale




Frank had proven that it was not necessary for a man to drink at Yale in
order to be esteemed as a good fellow. Frank was a total abstainer, and
his friends had found that nothing would induce him to drink or smoke.
At first they ridiculed him, but they came to secretly admire him, and
it is certain that his example was productive of no small amount of
good.

Frank's acquaintances declared he had a mighty nerve, for he was able to
travel with a crowd that drank and smoked, and still refrained from
doing either. That was something difficult for them to understand.

It was apparent to everybody that Merriwell's popularity did not depend
on his ability to absorb beer or his generosity in opening fizz. It came
from his sterling qualities, his ability as an athlete, his natural
magnetism, and his genial, sunny nature. Although he was refined and
gentlemanly, there was not the least suggestion of anything soft or
effeminate about him.

It is not strange that Merriwell could scarcely believe it possible that
Paul Pierson had been in earnest. Such a thing seemed altogether too
good to be true.

"If it's a jolly, he'll not have the satisfaction of knowing that I
spread it," Frank decided. "Mum is the word with me, and I'll keep right
on working for a place with the freshmen. Oh, if we can win the race at
Saltonstall!"

Frank knew that he stood well with Old Put, who was to manage the
freshman team in the spring. If the freshman crew could defeat the
sophs, Put would have more confidence than ever in Merriwell.

Frank was thinking these things over, when Harry came in with a rush,
slamming the door and tripping over a rug in his haste.

"Say! say! say!" he spluttered, staring at Frank.

"Well, what is it?"

"Is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"I heard Paul Pierson was seen talking to you on the campus."

"Well, what of that?"

"Then it is true?"

"Yes."

"Gracious! Pierson was never known to thing a do--er--do a thing like
that before!"

"Is that so?"

"Is it so! Why, you know it is so! Think of Pierson--the great and only
Pierson--talking to a freshman on the campus in the middle of the day!
Wow!"

"You are excited, Harry. Sit down and cool off."

"I'll sit down, but you must tell me what he was saying to you."

"Must I?"

"Must you? I should say yes! I am dying to know what he could be saying
to a freshman!"

Frank was troubled, for he saw his roommate's curiosity was aroused to
the highest notch, and he knew it would be no easy thing to satisfy
Harry without telling the truth.

"Go ahead," urged Rattleton. "What did Pierson say to you?"

"Oh, he said a number of things," replied Frank, awkwardly.

Harry lifted his eyebrows.

"Haven't a doubt of it," he returned; "but what are they?"

Frank hesitated, and a cloud came to his friend's face.

"You see, it is a private matter," Merriwell explained.

"Oh!"

There was infinite sarcasm in that ejaculation.

"You know I would tell you if I could, Harry," said Frank, rising; "but
this is a matter which I--"

"Oh, you needn't trouble yourself!" Rattleton cut in, sharply. "I'll
live just as long and be just as happy."

"Now don't be angry, old man; that is foolish. You know I would tell you
if I could do so without--"

"Oh, I don't know about that! You are getting so you have secrets
lately, and you don't seem to trust me. Say, if you think I am a sneak
and a tattler, say so, for I want to know it. I don't care to room with
any fellow who doesn't trust me."

Harry was angry, and Frank felt very sorry.

"Old man," said Merriwell, meeting Rattleton's sullen glance with a
frank, open look, "I do trust you, and you should know it. There is no
fellow in college I would as soon room with. Still, you should know
there are some things a man cannot honorably tell even his chum."

Harry was silent.

"Perhaps there are some things about yourself or some friend that you
would not care to tell me," Frank went on. "I am not going to be
offended at that. It is your right to tell what you like and keep what
you like to yourself. A thing like that should not create feeling
between us."

"But this seems different."

"Does it? Well, I will explain that I told Pierson I would say nothing
of the matter to anybody. I do not believe in lying. Do you want me to
break my word in this case?"

"No!" cried Harry. "You are all right again, Frank! You are always
right! Don't you mind me when I get cranky. I'm a fundering thool--I
mean a thundering fool! But I do hope Pierson is not working a jolly on
you."

"He may have tried to work a jolly on me, but he is not succeeding,"
smiled Frank, whose face had cleared. "And the quieter I keep the
smaller will be the chance of success, if that is his little game."




CHAPTER XXIV.

GORDON EXPRESSES HIMSELF.


At the first opportunity Frank had a talk with Burnham Putnam, who had
charge of the freshman crew. He told Put all that had been learned about
the traitor, and Burn listened with interest and growing anger.

"Who do you think the traitor is?" he asked at last.

"Well, there is a doubt in my mind, and I do not want to accuse
anybody."

"We have conducted our work with great secrecy."

"We have that."

"And I have repeatedly cautioned the men about talking."

"Yes."

"I have warned them that it might mean the ruin of our plans."

"You have."

"And still everything we have done seems to be known."

"That's right."

"The man who has spread this matter has the very best means for
obtaining information, as he has made no mistake."

"Well, what do you think?"

"The traitor may be the last man we would suspect. He must have some
cause for playing crooked, though."

"That is the way I regarded it."

Old Put thought the matter over for a few moments. He finally said:

"I don't want to do any man injustice, but the turn affairs have taken
leads me to think it would be a good plan to drop our spare men entirely
and put full dependence on a settled crew."

Frank was silent, and so Putnam asked:

"What do you think of that?"

"I think it is a very good plan, and I approve of it."

"Then it is settled. They shall be dropped at once, although it seems
that the mischief is done now."

"There may be no mischief in it, for the sophs ridicule the innovations
introduced, and they are surer than ever that they will have a soft
thing of it.

"They have been fooled several times this fall. I am sorry we shall not
be able to spring our innovations as a surprise, but we may give them a
warm time just the same."

That day Putnam informed the spare men that he did not think they would
be needed any more in training, but asked them to keep in condition till
after the race, in case anything might happen that they were wanted.

Gordon was enraged immediately, for he had held on and worked through
everything with the belief that he would finally be given a place on the
crew.

"So I am dropped, am I?" he said, bitterly. "Well, I rather think I
understand how it comes about."

Putnam did not like this, and a dark look came to his rugged face.

"What do you mean?" he demanded, sharply.

"Never mind," returned Walter, with a toss of his head. "It's no use to
talk it over, but I know a few things."

He turned as if he would go away, but Put put out a hand and stopped
him, whirling him sharply about.

"See here," said the sturdy manager of the freshman ball team and crew,
"I want to know just what you mean, Gordon."

"Oh, you do?"

Walter flung to the winds all hope of getting on the crew. He sneered in
Putnam's face.

"Yes, sir, I do! You talk as if you had not been treated right."

"Have I?"

"I think you have, sir."

"I know I have not!"

Putnam was angry, and his face betrayed it.

"You must prove that, Gordon!"

"I can."

"Do so."

"I may not prove it to your satisfaction, but I can prove it just as
hard. You have told me that I am in fine form, and I know that you have
said I have as fine back and shoulders as may be found in the whole
college."

"I did say that," calmly acknowledged Old Put.

"Well, that counts for something."

"But it does not make you suitable for the crew. There is something more
needed, as you should know. You must be able to row."

"Is there a man on the crew who pulls a prettier stroke than I? Just
answer me that, Burn Putnam?"

"You do pull a pretty stroke, but I have been convinced that the men on
the crew now will hold out, and it is not best to take you in place of
any of them."

"Who convinced you? I know! It was Merriwell! He is holding Rattleton on
the crew simply because they are chums, and you are letting him twist
you around his finger! Ha! ha! ha!"

Gordon's laugh was sarcastic and cutting and it brought a hot flush to
the face of Old Put.

"You are insolent, Gordon!" he said. "This is an open insult!"

"Is it? Well, I notice you do not deny that Merriwell has held Rattleton
on the crew in my place."

"I deny that he has held any one on the crew that is not fully capable
of remaining there on his own merit."

"That sounds first rate! Oh, well, I don't care, anyway! Your crew is
bound to make a show of itself, and it will be beaten hands down by the
sophs."

"So that is the opinion you hold, is it?"

"It is."

"And I suppose you have held it all along?"

"I have."

"Then I have made no mistake in dropping you from the crew. You have
quite satisfied me on that point, Gordon. No man is suitable to hold a
place on any kind of a crew or team if he holds it in contempt and has
no confidence in it. He will not work, and his feeling of contempt will
communicate itself to others, thus demoralizing the whole lot of them.
Even if he kept his contempt to himself, he is not the man to work his
heart out in the effort to win. He thinks it is no use to kill himself,
and he will not make his best effort at any time. It is my policy to
drop such a man, in case I find him out, and drop him hard. Yes, I am
quite satisfied, Gordon."

Walter bit his tongue to keep back the fierce words which arose to his
lips. He felt himself quivering with anger.

"All right! all right!" he said, his voice unsteady. "I am glad you are
satisfied! But wait till the race is over. Rattleton's glory will be
gone then. Don't think that he will pull his heart out. A man who smokes
as much as he does can't pull."

"Smokes! Rattleton does not smoke at all. I observed him at the turkey
roast. He absolutely refused to smoke."

"Because you were present; but I know for a fact that he smokes behind
your back, and he smokes almost constantly."

"I cannot believe it. Merriwell would tell me."

"Would he? Ha! ha! ha! You don't know Frank Merriwell yet, but you will
find him out. That fellow will go to any extreme to injure me, and so it
is not likely he would tell anything on his chum that would cause you to
give me his place."

"I am sure you do Merriwell an injustice. He is a man who does not smoke
himself, and he would not allow his roommate to injure himself smoking.
However, I will find out about this."

"Do so; but I have found out about it already. I have certain means of
obtaining information."

"So have the sophs, and they have obtained a great deal," Putnam shot at
Walter as he turned away.

Putnam collared Merriwell at the first opportunity and demanded to know
the truth about Rattleton's smoking.

"I know you will tell me the truth, Merry," said Burnham, "and it is
important that you should."

"Some one has been telling you he is smoking?"

"Yes."

"Well, he is not smoking now. I had a talk with him and he swore off. He
is not touching tobacco in any form, and I give you my word on that."

"That's all I want," said Putnam, quite satisfied.

After this the freshman crew took to practicing nights, and it was said
that they worked as no crew of freshies every worked before. One night
they ran up against the regular 'Varsity crew, and gave it a hot pull,
but finally seemed to be beaten.

The report of this brush spread abroad, and the men on the regular crew
were rather complimentary toward the freshmen. They said the youngsters
worked together in a most surprising way, and it was predicted that they
would give their rivals a hard pull.

The sophs were inclined to regard this as a jolly, and they continued
confident of winning over the freshmen with the greatest ease.




CHAPTER XXV.

THE TRAITOR DISCOVERED.


"I say, Merry," said Rattleton, the day before the race was to come off,
"you can't guess who Gordon is chumming with lately."

"I don't know as I can. Who is it?"

"Ditson."

"Get out!"

"That's on the level."

"But Ditson the same as suggested outright that Gordon was the traitor
who had told the sophs so much."

"That is true, but Gordon doesn't know it."

"Well, he ought to. What do you think Ditson is doing?"

"Oh, he is working Gordon, who has been drinking like a fish since Old
Put dropped him."

Frank was troubled. He did not approve of Ditson, and he feared that
Gordon had a weak nature, so that he could be easily influenced. Walter
had greatly taken to heart being dropped by Putnam, and he seemed
utterly reckless and careless about himself. If he did not look out, he
was almost sure to get into trouble and find himself "rusticated" or
sent home for good.

Merriwell could not help thinking it possible that Gordon had been
innocent and that a mistake had been made in dropping him, as it might
discourage him so that he would go to the bad. This worried Frank not a
little.

"I'll have to make Ditson call a halt," he said to Harry. "He must be
told to let up on Gordon."

"Now, that is dead right," nodded Harry, who was inclined to be generous
and kindly toward the fellow who might have filled his place on the
freshman crew. "I tell you that Ditson is a bad man, and I would not
trust him as far as I can fling a cow by the tail."

"I'll get after him at the first opportunity," promised Frank.

Harry went out and had a talk with Bandy Robinson about the matter.
Robinson admitted that he did not have much use for either Gordon or
Ditson, but he was inclined to think Gordon the better fellow of the
two.

That night Merriwell and Rattleton retired early, but they were not
allowed to go to sleep. Barely were they in bed before there was a knock
on the door, and they found Robinson and one of the fellows who lived in
the house were there.

"Say," said Bandy, "Ditson and Gordon are down at Billy's, and Gordon
has a great load on. I have told Ditson to let him alone, but was
advised to mind my own business. Ditson is deliberately getting Gordon
stiff."

"Is that so?" cried Frank as he made a jump for his clothes. "Well, I
think I will have a talk with Mr. Ditson."

Frank and Harry dressed quickly, and away they went with Robinson and
his companion toward Billy's.

On arriving at Billy's they were told that Ditson and Gordon were in the
little corner behind the screen. Gordon was opening champagne, and both
fellows were pretty well intoxicated.

Harry slipped up behind the screen, stood on a chair, and peered over.
As he did so he heard Ditson say:

"That's right, Walter. Merriwell rubbed dirt all over you. He is trying
to become another king, like Browning, but you can bet I don't lose any
opportunity to throw him down."

"Throw him down! throw him down!" echoed Gordon, thickly. "That's right;
but you can't throw him down hard enough to keep him down."

"I don't know about that," declared Roll, with drunken sobriety. "If we
were to work together, Gordon, old man, we could hurt him. As it is,
you've helped me out wonderfully in what I've done."

"Have I? How?"

Harry looked around and saw Merriwell preparing to go into the corner
behind the screen. Then Rattleton made a few violent gestures, which
plainly told his roommate to refrain.

Frank looked astonished. What could Harry be up to that he appeared so
excited? He was motioning for Frank to come forward cautiously and join
him.

Now, Merriwell did not believe in playing the eavesdropper on any one,
but he fancied Harry saw something he wished to show him, so he went
forward lightly, placed another chair, got upon it, and looked over the
screen.

In the meantime Ditson was saying:

"Yes, you've helped me. You know Merriwell is coaching the freshman
crew--or has been--for the race to-morrow. Well, I don't let any chance
go to get a jab at him."

"I don't see what that has to do with my helping you," mumbled Gordon,
vainly trying to light a cigarette with a broken match on which no
brimstone was left.

"Course yer don't," laughed Ditson, who was almost as full as his
companion. "This isn't the first time we have been out together, eh, old
boy?"

"No."

"Only we had to be quiet about it when you were on the crew--or when you
thought you were on it."

"That's right."

"We have been pretty full once or twice."

"I thought so when we got up the next morning."

"Well, you have told me lots of things about Merriwell and what he was
doing with the crew. You're a great talker when you're loaded."

Gordon stiffened up a bit and tried to give his companion a sober stare,
but the effort was a ludicrous failure.

"Wazzyer mean?" he asked. "'Fi told you anything it was in strictest
confidence."

"Cert; but then, you know, anything to knife Merriwell."

Gordon braced off, his hands on the table before him. Ditson laughed and
went on:

"Now, if we make a combine against him we can do him bad."

"Wazzyer mean?" Gordon again demanded. "Mean that you repeated anything
I tol' you in confidence when I was full?"

"Not publicly," grinned Ditson. "I may have used it to injure Merriwell,
but I was careful how I used it."

Walter thumped the table with his fist, growing angry suddenly.

"You're a hanged two-faced fraud!" he huskily cried. "That's jusht what
you are, Ditson! Somebody's been telling things to the sophs. They found
out everything. It was you! And you pumped your points out of me when I
was full."

"That didn't hurt you," Ditson hastened to declare. "It was entirely to
hurt Merriwell, and he is our common enemy."

"Don't care a continental if he is!" cried Walter. "I don't like him,
but you have hurt me. Bet anything Merriwell and Old Put thought I had
blowed! I didn't have any confidence in Merriwell's methods, but I
didn't blow to the sophs! Still I was to blame for lettin' you get me
full and pump me. And the fellows think I'm a tattler! Well, I'll be
hanged if I don't even up with you by hammering the face off you right
now!"

Walter stood up and attempted to grasp Ditson's arm, but he was so full
that he made a miscalculation and caught nothing but empty air. Then he
struck across the table at Roll.

"Oh, you would hit me, would you!" grated Ditson, who saw that his
companion was much the drunker. "You would hammer my face! Well, perhaps
I'll do some hammering myself!"

Then he caught up an empty champagne bottle and swung it over his head
as if to strike Gordon.

Like a flash Merriwell's hand darted down over the top of the screen and
snatched the bottle from Roll's grasp.

A moment later Frank went around the screen and confronted the two lads,
still holding the bottle in his hand.

"I saved you from having a cracked head that time, Gordon," he said as
he collared Ditson. "And I have found out who the traitor is. I am glad
you are not the man. As for this thing"--he gave Ditson a shake that
caused the fellow's teeth to click together--"he has shown to-night that
he is a most contemptible cur! I hated to think him as dirty as he has
shown himself to be."

Frank's face was full of unutterable disgust for Ditson.

Other freshmen came crowding into the corner, and Ditson saw himself
regarded with scorn and contempt by everybody. He cowed like a whipped
cur and whined:

"I was simply fooling; it was all a jolly. I never did anything of the
sort. I was simply trying to get Gordon on the string by telling him
so."

"Well, you got yourself on a string, and pretty well tangled up.
Gentlemen"--turning to the freshmen present--"here is the traitor who
has been giving our secrets away to the sophs. Both Rattleton and myself
heard him acknowledge it. Take a good look at him, so you will know him
in the future."

"Oh, we'll know him!" cried many voices.

"It's a mistake--" Roll began.

"That's right," agreed Frank. "The worst mistake you ever made. At last
you have shown just what you are, and everybody is dead onto you. Get
out of this!"

"Tar and feather him!" shouted a voice.

"Let him go," advised Merriwell. "He is covered with a coating of
disgrace that will not come off as easily as tar and feathers."

Ditson sneaked away, the hisses of his classmates sounding in his ears.
The look on his face as he rolled his eyes toward Merriwell before
leaving the room was malicious in the extreme.

Frank turned to Walter, who did not seem to know what to do.

"Gordon, you have found that fellow out, which is a lucky thing for
you," he said. "He would have ruined you. At the same time, I have found
out that you had no hand in the sneaking work that has been going on of
late. You were simply an unconscious and unwilling tool, and it did me
good to see you resent it when you found out what Ditson had been
doing."

Walter tried to say something, but he choked and stammered. Then he
muttered something about having a drink all around, but Frank assured
him that he had taken quite enough.

Rattleton and Robinson led the crowd away from the corner, and Merriwell
had a brief talk with Gordon, Then Harry and Frank took Gordon out and
did not leave him till he was safely in his room. As they were going
away Walter thickly said:

"Merriwell!"

"What is it?"

"I want to 'pologize."

"What for?"

"Things I've said 'bout you."

"I don't know about them."

"'Cause I've said 'em behind your back. Sneakin' thing to do! Merriwell,
I'm 'shamed--I am, by thunder! I guess you're all right. Don't b'lieve
you ever done me dirt. Is it all right, old man?"

"Yes, it's all right."

"Say, that makes me feel better. It does, by thunder! You're a good
fellow, Merriwell, and I'm--I'm a fool! I talk too much! Drink too much,
too. You don't talk and you don't drink. You're all right. Good-night,
Merriwell."

"Good-night, Gordon."

When Frank retired the second time that night it was with a feeling of
intense relief, for the perplexing problem as to the identity of the
traitor had been settled, and he felt that he had done Gordon a good
turn by getting him away from Ditson.

And Ditson? Well, he deserved to pass a wretched night, and he did. He
felt that he was forever disgraced at Yale, but he did not seem to
consider it his own fault. He blamed Merriwell for it all, and his heart
was hot with almost murderous rage. Over and over he swore that he would
get square some way--any way.




CHAPTER XXVI.

THE RACE.


The day for the race came at last--a sunny day, with the air clear and
cold. Just the right sort of a day for the best of work.

Everybody seemed bound for Lake Saltonstall. They were going out in
carriages, hacks, coaches, on foot, by train, and in many other ways.
The road to the lake was lined with people. The students were shouting,
singing and blowing horns. One crowd of freshmen had a big banner, on
which was lettered:

"'Umpty-eight, she is great,
She will win sure as fate."

Evidently the sophomores had been informed about this banner in advance,
for they carried one which declared:

"'Umpty-eight isn't in it,
She'll be beaten in a minute."

How they shouted and taunted each other! How they raced along the road!
How sure everybody was that he could pick the winner!

The scene at the lake was beautiful and inspiring, for the shore was
lined with people and there were flags and bright colors everywhere. On
the point there was a great mob, composed mostly of students, who were
yelling and cheering and flaunting their flags. The boats on the lake
were well filled and gay with colors. New Haven swell society was fairly
represented, and it certainly was an occasion to stir youthful blood.

The freshman-sophomore-junior race came fourth on the list, and it was
to be the event of the day. Strangely enough, the juniors were not
reckoned as dangerous by either freshmen or sophomores. Between the last
two classes was to come the real tug of war.

In the boathouse the great Bob Collingwood, of the 'Varsity crew, gave
the freshmen some advice, and they listened to him with positive awe. He
had heard of Merriwell's attempt to introduce the English stroke, and he
did not approve of it.

After he had got through Merriwell took his men aside into another part
of the boathouse and warned them against thinking of anything
Collingwood had said.

"He is all right when he is talking to men who use his style of oar and
the regular American stroke, but you will be broke up sure as fate if
you think of what he has said that disagrees with my instructions. It is
too late now to make any change, and we must win or lose as we have
practiced."

"That's right," agreed every man.

"We'll win," said Rattleton, resolutely.

They could hear the cheering as the other races took place, and at last
it came their turn. How their hearts thumped! And it was Merriwell that
quieted their unsteady nerves with a few low, calm words, which seemed
to give them the bracer which they needed before going into the race.

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