“Merriwell.”
“Who is Mr. Merriwell?”
“That is Mr. Merriwell right there,” said Jack, nodding toward Frank.
“Frank Merriwell—Frank Merriwell, the ball player and all-around athlete?” questioned Spencer, excitedly.
“That’s who he is,” assured the Virginian.
“Then Mr. Harlow should be very well acquainted with him,” said the stroke of the crew, “for he has said that Frank Merriwell is his particular friend.”
“Yes,” spoke up another, “he referred us to Frank Merriwell when he applied for the position to coach our crew.”
“My eyes! what a crust!” shouted Diamond. “I never heard of such cheek! He referred you to Merry because he thought you could not reach him by letter as he knew Merry was somewhere out West on a bicycle tour.”
“All of us had heard of Mr. Merriwell,” said Spencer. “We saw his name in the papers often. A sporting magazine spoke of him as the destined leader in baseball and football at Yale. Besides that, I know a person who is personally acquainted with him. Naturally, when Mr. Harlow declared that Frank Merriwell was a particular friend of his we were inclined to regard him with favor, and I am greatly astonished to discover that he has been deceiving us.”
Harlow looked disgusted.