“Oh, what a jolly thing it will be to defeat Frank Merriwell, the great Yale athlete, of whom my brother is forever telling some improbable yarn!” she cried.
Three other girls, two of whom were swinging in a hammock, clapped their hands and laughed.
“Do it, Mabel—do it!” eagerly urged Bessie Blossom. “My brother is forever talking about Frank Merriwell, too! Sile seems to think Mr. Merriwell is the only fellow in college.”
“Oh, he’s not the only pebble on the beach!” sang Fanny Darling, who, for half an hour, had been trying to tease Jack about Frank, and had succeeded in making the loyal fellow decidedly sour and sarcastic. “He may be able to cut some ice with men, but he’ll have to sharpen his wits when he encounters the opposite sex.”
Fanny was freckled and given to slang, but she was independent, could take care of herself, and was popular.
The third girl, Lucy Lake, said nothing at all, but seemed to enjoy it all very much.
Frank was not at all disturbed by the chaffing of the girls. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it thoroughly, and he laughingly said:
“If I am to fall, I could choose no fairer conqueror.”
Mabel Creighton laughed, but added color came to her flushed face, and she could not entirely conceal her happy confusion. She betrayed in a moment that already she had learned to regard her brother’s guest with unusual favor.
At tennis Mabel Creighton was a wonder. Never had Frank seen a girl who was so light on her feet and so deft with a racket. She had actually driven him to the base line game, while she played a net game and volleyed with such bewildering skill and rapidity that it made Frank gasp for breath.