“Not on your tintype!” retorted the sailor. “Little Walter will lose no precious moments in putting Richard Merriwell wise on what’s doing.”
The two lads in front of them continued their conversation.
“Merriwell has always had enemies in this school, hasn’t he?” said Andy.
“The same as any fellow who is unusually successful,” nodded Paul. “But he has one now who is more powerful and determined than his former enemies.”
“Do you mean Chester Arlington?”
“That’s his name.”
“Arlington!” whispered Wiley. “Jot it down in your memory, Abe. He is the crooked duck we have to keep our optics on.”
Ahead of them, at a little distance, a flush youngster was offering to give odds that Franklin would defeat Fardale that day.
“You must have money to burn, Tommy,” laughed a friend.
“I have,” declared the one called Tommy, as he flourished a small roll of bills. “I will bet two to one we beat Fardale for fair!”