“Gug-gug-get out bub-bub-bub-before I tut-tut-throw you out!” roared Browning, in exasperation. “You are tut-tut-taking your life in your hand when you cuc-cuc-come around me talking about ice cuc-cuc-cuc—— Confound it! get out!”
Then the laughing lads left him alone in his misery.
It was a jolly meal in the cool dining-room of the little hotel. The boys cracked jokes, told stories, laughed and enjoyed themselves fully.
In the midst of it all, Browning stalked into the room, bundled to his ears in blankets.
“Say,” he called, “is there any good, hot tea or coffee?”
“Plenty of it,” assured Merriwell.
“Gimme a cup—quick!”
Bruce found a seat at the table, and Frank ordered a cup of tea to be brought. Then, while Rattleton and Mulloy were condoling with Browning over his misfortune, Merriwell gave the waiter a tip to bring a cup of cracked ice with the tea, but to place it beside Frank’s plate.
The waiter obeyed the order, and soon the tea, boiling hot, was before Browning. Bruce was so eager to swallow something hot that he caught it up and gulped down nearly half of it. Then he uttered a roar of dismay.
“Confound it!” he cried, as soon as he could speak. “That tea has taken the skin off all the way down! I’m parboiled inside! Oh, great Cæsar!”