The very ones who were first to apply the name in derision afterward came to call him Worthy Chief in sincere admiration.
Frank went around to Billy's occasionally, and although he would not drink, he treated frequently, paying for anything his companions wanted to take, from beer to champagne.
One evening Frank, Harry and Dismal Jones went into Billy's and found Diamond and a large crowd there. Jack had been drinking something stronger than lemonade, and he was holding forth to a crowd of eager listeners.
One look at Diamond's flushed face did Merriwell take, and then he knew the fellow was open for anything. The high color in the cheeks of the Virginian was a danger signal.
Merriwell and his two friends ordered drinks, Frank taking ginger ale. Harry and Jones lighted cigarettes.
Frank examined the pictures around the walls. There were ballet dancers who were standing on one toe, famous trotters, painted pictures of celebrated fighting cocks, hunters in red coats leaping five-barred fences, and so forth.
As he looked over the pictures he became aware that Diamond was saying something that was intended for his ears.
"Southerners never fight with their fists," the Virginian declared. "They consider it brutal and beastly, and so they do not learn the so-called 'art.' They are able to fight with some other weapons, though. There is a man in this college who is trying to be a high cock of the walk, but he will never succeed till he shows his right by meeting me face to face with weapons of which I have knowledge. I have met him with his weapons, and if he is not a coward he will give me a show. But I think he is a coward and a sneak, and I—"
That was more than Frank could stand. He did not pause to think that Diamond had been drinking and was utterly reckless, but he whirled and advanced till he stood squarely in front of the Virginian.
"I presume, Mr. Diamond, that you are referring to me," he said, coldly and steadily, although he could feel the hot blood leaping in his veins.