Dick heard Brad’s words without the quiver of a muscle. His lips were pressed together, and there seemed a hardening of his jaw, but that was all.
An excited discussion started at once, but every fellow present seemed to feel that it would be a serious misfortune to have Arlington get on to the committee.
“He can’t git there anyhow,” squeaked Obediah Tubbs.
“He can unless the right influence is brought to bear against him,” declared Brad. “He’ll do anything to make the position. He’ll spend money like water, and he seems to have a barrel of it to spend.”
“But it cuc-cuc-can’t be the fellows here will be bub-bub-bought!” exclaimed Jolliby.
“Wait and see!” said Brad. “This galoot, Arlington, is mighty slick, and he’ll play his cards fine.”
“If he ever gets on the committee,” said Singleton, “there is going to be trouble for this football-team. He is sore because he did not make the eleven, and he will raise thunder. Merriwell, it is for your interest to see that Chet Arlington is defeated in this scheme of his.”
Still Dick was silent. He was thinking of his promise to Mrs. Arlington not to interfere with the ambition of her son, a promise that had been made in the presence of June and the gathering of plebes about the carriage.
The keenly interested boys decided to go forth immediately and find out “what was doing.” They soon left the room, only Buckhart remaining with Dick. Merriwell sat on a chair, gazing at the floor, a strange look on his handsome face. The Texan walked over and dropped a hand on Dick’s shoulder.
“Pard.”