"Really so?" And Frank's eyebrows were uplifted in mock surprise. "I presumed I would be welcome to the tent of a classmate."
"Well, you are not welcome here," growled the big fellow.
"What are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing. If you haven't the instincts of a gentleman——"
Frank interrupted with a laugh.
"Really that sounds fine from your lips, Mr. Bascomb!" he exclaimed. "You were trying to intimidate one smaller and weaker than yourself a moment ago, and yet you have the nerve to talk of gentlemanly instincts. You seem to be venturing on unfamiliar grounds, sir."
Bascomb glared. He longed to punch Merriwell's head, but he felt that Frank was anxious for him to attempt a move of the sort.
"You're a nice chap to talk of intimidation when you have already forced Baby to fag for you!" he cried, hotly.
"I think Mr. Davis will attest that I neither forced him nor asked him to perform any task for me. I simply gave him a few instructions that were sure to be of material benefit to him. But I heard you demanding service, and seeking to compel it with threats. You know what the penalty is for such conduct."
"And I suppose you are just the kind of a fellow to blow. All right; go ahead."