“So that is your game, is it?” grated the voice of Merry’s Fardale chum. “Well, I swear, I did not think it of you, and I haven’t liked you, either!”
“You are shooting off too soon,” hastily said Noon. “I didn’t say I had any game at all, but I wanted you to understand just where you stood. You can do me a favor. Of course, I would not be mean enough to go back on a fellow who did me a favor. Instead of that, I would protect him, if necessary, by swearing one of the ‘townies’ knocked out the cop.”
“I do not ask that much of my friends, much less of you!” flashed Hodge. “If you want to blow on me, go ahead. All I can say is, that I’ll punch the face off you if you do!”
“You wouldn’t get the chance,” declared Noon. “You’d be pulled for assaulting an officer in performance of his duty, and it would go hard with you.”
Again Hodge was silent.
Once more Merriwell was on the point of ascending the steps, when Noon began again:
“There is no reason why we should be enemies, Hodge. We should be friends——”
“Not by a long distance!” exclaimed Bart, contempt in his voice. “I know you now too well for that, Ned Noon! We can’t be friends.”
“Oh, have it as you like; but you’ll find it for your good not to make an enemy of me.”
Hodge uttered a scornful exclamation.