“Go away,” advised Frank. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
“You don’t dare to fight! You’re a coward!”
Merriwell did not fancy being called that.
“Go away, Riddle,” he again advised. “You will be sorry if you don’t.”
The fellow fancied Merry was afraid of him.
“What you deserve is a good thrashing, to take some of the freshness out of you!” he shouted, having mopped the most of the paste off his face.
“Don’t be so stuck up,” said Frank, with a bit of a smile. “What you need is some good soap and water to use on your face.”
“You confounded fresh!”
Riddle started toward Frank.
“Wait!”