“No,” said young Merriwell decidedly, “I don’t get it, Pink, and I don’t want to. Sounds worse than the measles.”
“I reckon I’ve had it,” remarked Blunt seriously. “If it’s catching, I know I have. When I was a kid I made it a rule to corral everything from mumps to meningitis. Can you have it twice?”
“I’m vaccinated,” said Clancy, “so I guess it wouldn’t be fatal even if I did catch it. What are the symptoms, Pink?”
“In your case, Red,” Ballard explained, “the symptoms are ‘cantaloupe’ and ‘calliope.’ Professor Phineas Borrodaile, who is long on polysyllables, explained the term to me.”
“Well, come across. What sort of a silly-bull is this pa-ra-what-d’you-call-it?”
“Slay him!” whispered Ballard weakly. “There are more symptoms.”
Feigning wrath, Clancy bristled up to Ballard.
“I’ll be slaying you, Pink,” he growled, “if you don’t tell me what I’ve got so I can get rid of it.”
“Keep your distance, Clancy!” ordered Ballard. “I can see another pun in your eye. If you make it, somebody will have to hold me or I’ll give you a jab with my powerful right.”
“That would be a pun-jab, and—— Ouch! Quit it, Chip! Let go!”