A FRESH YOUNG MAN.
Frank and his three friends bad a stateroom together. The tutor was given a room with other parties.
The weather for the first two days was fine, and the young collegians enjoyed every minute, not one of them having a touch of sea-sickness till the third day.
Then Rattleton was seized, and he lay in his bunk, groaning and dismal, even though he tried to be cheerful at times.
Browning enjoyed everything, even Rattleton's misery, for he could be lazy to his heart's content.
They had enlivened the times by singing songs, those of a nautical flavor, such as "Larboard Watch" and "A Life on the Ocean Wave," having the preference.
Now it happened that the Frenchman occupied a room adjoining, and he was very much annoyed by their singing. He pounded on the partition, and expressed his feelings in very lurid language, but that amused them, and they sang the louder.
"M. Montfort seems to get very agitated," said Frank, laughing.
"But I hardly think there is any danger that he will do more than hammer on the partition," grunted Bruce. "He's kept away from us since he found he could not frighten anybody."
"He's a bluffer," was Diamond's opinion.
"He's a great fellow to play cards," said Merry. "But he seems to ply for something more than amusement."
"How's that?" asked Jack, interested.
"I've noticed that he never cares for whist or any game where there are no stakes. He gets into a game only when there's something to be won."
"Well, it seems to me that he's struck a poor crowd on this boat if he's looking for suckers. He should have shipped on an ocean liner. What does he play?"
"He seems to have taken a great fancy to draw poker. 'Pocaire' is what he calls it. He pretended at first that he didn't know much of anything about the game, but, if I am not mistaken, he's an old stager at it. I watched the party playing in the smoking-room last night."
"Who played?" asked Bruce.
"The Frenchman, a rather sporty young fellow named Bloodgood, a small, bespectacled man, well fitted with the name of Slush, and an Englishman by the name of Hazleton."
"That's the crowd that played in the Frenchman's stateroom to-day," groaned Rattleton from his berth.
"Played in the stateroom?" exclaimed Frank. "I wonder why they didn't play in the smoking-room?"
"Don't know," said Harry; "but I fancy there was a rather big game on, and you know the Frenchman has the biggest stateroom on the boat, so there was plenty of room for them. They could play there without interruption."
"There seems to be something mysterious about that Frenchman," said Frank.
"I think there's something mysterious about several passengers on this boat," grunted Browning. "I haven't seen much of this young fellow Bloodgood, but he strikes me as a mystery."
"Why?"
"Well he seems to have money to burn, and I don't understand why such a fellow did not take passage on a regular liner."
"As far as that goes," smiled Merry, "I presume some people might think it rather singular that we did not cross the pond in a regular liner; but then they might suppose it was a case of economy with us."
While they were talking there came a rap on their door which Frank threw open.
Just outside stood a young man with a flushed face and distressed appearance. He was dressed in a plaid suit, and wore a red four-in-hand necktie, in which blazed a huge diamond. There were two large solitaire rings on his left hand, and he wore a heavy gold chain strung across his vest.
"Beg your pardon, dear boys," he drawled. "Hope I'm not intruding."
Then he walked in and closed the door.
"My name's Bloodgood," he said—"Raymond Bloodgood. I've seen you fellows together, and you seem like a jolly lot. Heard you singing, you know. Great voices—good singing."
Then he stopped speaking, and they stared at him, wondering what he was driving at. For a moment there was an awkward pause, and then Bloodgood went on:
"I was up pretty late last night, you know. Had a little game in the smoking-room. Plenty of booze, and all that, and I'm awfully rocky to-day. Got a splitting headache. Didn't know but some of you had a bromo seltzer, or something of the sort. You look like a crowd that finds such things handy occasionally."
At this Frank laughed quietly, but Diamond looked angry and indignant.
"What do you take us for?" exclaimed the Virginian, warmly. "Do you think we are a lot of boozers?"
Bloodgood turned on Jack, lifting his eyebrows.
"My dear fellow—" he began.
But Frank put in:
"We have no use for bromo seltzer, as none of us are drinkers."
"Oh, of course not," said the intruder, with something like a sneer. "None of us are drinkers, but then we're all liable to get a little too much sometimes, especially when we sit up late and play poker."
Frank saw that Diamond had taken an instant dislike to the youth with the diamonds and the red necktie, and he felt like averting a storm, even though he did not fancy the manner of the intruder.
"We do not sit up late and play poker," he said.
"Eh? Oh, come off! You're a jolly lot of fellows, and you must have a fling sometimes."
"We can be jolly without drinking or gambling."
"Why, I'm hanged if you don't talk as if you considered it a crime to take a drink or have a little social game!"
Frank felt his blood warm up a bit, but he held himself in hand, as he quietly retorted:
"Intemperance is a crime. I presume there are men who take a drink, as you call it, without being intemperate; but I prefer to let the stuff alone entirely, and then there is no danger of going over the limit."
"And I took you for a sport! That shows how a fellow can be fooled. But you do play poker occasionally. I know that."
"How do you know it, Mr. Bloodgood?"
"By your language. You just spoke of going over the limit. That is a poker term."
"And one used by many people who never played a game of cards in their lives."
"But you have played cards? You have played poker? Can you deny it?"
"If I could, I wouldn't take the trouble, Mr. Bloodgood. I think you have made a mistake in sizing up this crowd."
"Guess I have," sneered the fellow. "You must be members of the Y.M.C.A."
"Say, Frank!" panted Jack; "open the door and let me——"
But Frank checked the hot-headed youth again.
"Steady, Jack! It is not necessary. He will go directly. Mr. Bloodgood, you speak as if it were a disgrace to belong to the Y.M.C.A. That shows your ignorance and narrowness. The Y.M.C.A. is a splendid organization, and it has proved the anchor that has kept many a young man from dashing onto the rocks of destruction. Those who sneer at it should be ashamed of themselves, but, as a rule, they are too bigoted, prejudiced, or narrow-minded to recognize the fact that some of the most manly young men to be found belong to the Y.M.C.A."
Bloodgood laughed.
"And I took you for a sport!" he cried. "By Jove! Never made such a blunder before in all my life! Studying for the ministry, I'll wager! Ha! ha! ha!"
Frank saw that Diamond could not be held in check much longer.
"One last word to you, Mr. Bloodgood," he spoke. "I am not studying for the ministry, and I do not even belong to the Y.M.C.A. If I were doing the one or belonged to the other, I should not be ashamed of it. I don't like you. I can stand a little freshness; in fact, it rather pleases me; but you are altogether too fresh. You are offensive."
Merry flung open the door.
"Good-day, sir."
Bloodgood stepped out, turned round, laughed, and then walked away.
"Hang it, Merriwell!" grated Diamond, as Frank closed the door; "why didn't you let me kick him out onto his neck!"