FRANK IS MISERABLE.
Frank was expecting a call from Forrest. It came. The captain of the eleven brought Yates and Parker with him. He did not beat about the bush, but immediately asked Frank why he had not come out to practice.
With equal directness, Merriwell told him he had finally decided for good and all that he could not play football that season.
Parker looked dismayed; Yates looked disgusted. Forrest did not give up.
"You can't refuse," he said. "We need you, and you must play."
But Frank was determined, and persuasion proved of no avail. He firmly refused to think of playing.
"Come away!" exclaimed Yates, with a sneer. "It's no use to talk to him. I did think he was all right, but this settled his case in my mind."
Frank bit his lip, and all the color left his face, while his eyes gleamed dangerously.
"Mr. Yates," he said, "you are in my room, and I cannot lift a hand here. Any time you see fit to insult me outside I'll do my best to resent it."
"Bah!" cried Yates. "If you haven't the courage to face Marline, you'll never stand up to me. I have discovered that you are a big stiff! You're a case of bluff!"
Merriwell quivered, and his hands were clinched till his finger nails cut into the palms of his hands. It was plain that he was making a battle to restrain himself.
"Mr. Yates," he said, hoarsely, "you and I have had our troubles before, and, if I remember correctly, you did not come off with flying colors. It is plain you delight in this opportunity for retaliation, but I warn you to take care. There is a limit, and you may overstep it. If you do——"
"What then?"
"You'll find you have made a big mistake."
"Bah!"
Duncan Yates was withering in his scorn. With a contemptuous gesture he turned toward the door.
It seemed that Merriwell was on the point of leaping after him, but Frank still managed to hold himself in restraint.
Puss Parker seemed grieved.
"It's too bad!" he said, shaking his head. "I wouldn't have believed it. You are done for here, Merriwell."
"That's right," nodded Forrest. "You can never recover after this. It's the greatest mistake of your life, man."
"Come!" cried Yates from the door, which he was holding open. "You are foolish to waste further breath on him."
Then all three went out, not one of them saying good-by.
When they were gone Frank felt like tearing up and down the room and slamming things about, but he did nothing of the sort. He believed in controlling his emotions, and so he stood quite still till the first fierce anger had left him.
Then came regret and doubt. He was sorry he had shown himself on the football field, and he regretted that he had given Inza his promise not to play the game.
But it was too late for regret. He could not quell his doubts. He was not certain he had done right, and that was enough to make him wretched.
That night Frank was the most miserable fellow in Yale. It did not seem any fault of his that had brought him into such a wretched predicament, and yet he was thoroughly disgusted with himself.
He could not study, he could do nothing but think. Sometimes he was determined to go to Inza and ask her to release him from his promise, and then he would think how his enemies would say he had been driven into it.
Then came another thought. If he were to come out now and offer to fill a place on the eleven, would he be accepted? He had fallen so in the esteem of Forrest that it was quite likely the captain would refuse to take him on the team.
He tried to devise some way of setting himself aright, but could think of none.
Had any one told him two days before that he could be so utterly miserable, he would have laughed at them.
Only a short time before this turn in events he had been the best known and most popular student in the college. His fame had spread all over New Haven and gone abroad to other college places. He was regarded with awe as a great traveler and a wonderful athlete.
Now—well, it was different now!
Finding he could not rest, study or think of anything but his wretched position, Frank went out for a walk. He tried to tire himself out physically, so that weariness of body would force his mind to rest. Miles he tramped, far out into the country. He drove along like one walking on a wager, paying no attention to the frosty air which nipped his nose and ears.
It was eleven o'clock when Frank was passing Morey's on his way to South Middle. In front of the place he paused. He remembered the many jolly times he had enjoyed in there. He remembered when he was the chief one of any little circle that might gather in that famous resort. Now he felt like an outcast—an outsider.
Three students came out. They did not see him, and they were chatting and laughing merrily. He watched them as they strolled away, his heart growing heavier and heavier.
"Anderson, Cobb and Nash," he muttered. "They're always jolly—never seem to have any troubles. They drink and sport too much to stand high in their classes, but they will get through college all right, and every one will call them first-class fellows. Isn't that better than to be valedictorian and a hermit? I was getting along all right, although I was not showing up brilliantly in Greek. I'd have scrubbed through and held my position on the football team if I had tried. It's plain I made a big mistake."
It seemed plainer and plainer the more he thought about it, but he could see no way of turning back now and taking the path he had abandoned. He had burned his bridges, and he must go forward.
A great curiosity seized him. He knew well enough a party of students would be gathered in Morey's little back room, and he longed to know how he would be received among them.
"I'm going in there," he muttered. "Haven't been around for a long time. Here I go!"
In he went. He was known the moment he appeared. Straight for the famous back room he made his way, and he was immediately admitted, his face being his passport.
He was right in thinking a party was gathered there. At least a dozen fellows were sitting about drinking ale. They were not laughing or talking loudly, but as Frank entered the room, he distinctly heard his name spoken by one of them.