Roll Ditson strolled in, smoking a cigarette, and said:
"Hello, Merry! Hello, fellows! What's up? Council of war?"
"Just that," said Dan Dorman. "Merry is perfecting a scheme to put a horse on Browning."
"Eh? Browning? Great Scott! Is that so? He's a bad man to monkey with. Better let him alone, Merry."
Ditson had a patronizing way that was offensive to Frank, who had given him numberless digs; but he was too thick to tumble or he deliberately refused to take Merriwell's words as they were intended.
"You'll have to kick him before he knows he's not wanted," Rattleton had said.
"Thank you for your advice," said Frank, with mild sarcasm—"thank you exceedingly! Perhaps you are right."
"Oh, I know I am. I don't want to get the king after me, and I don't believe you care to have him on your trail. He is the most influential soph in college. Why, his name is on a table down at Morey's."
Ditson looked around as if his last statement had settled the question of Browning's vast superiority over all sophomores.
Morey's was the favorite resort of the students, and no freshman could enter there. It was an old frame house, with low-posted rooms, and there one could drink everything except beer. No beer could be had at Morey's.