“Oh, you needn’t turn up your nose!” cried Noon; “for you’ll have to pull it down again. I see I’ve got to talk straight to you. You make me tired! For a freshman you put on too many airs. What I want to say is this: If it wasn’t for Merriwell’s influence, you would not have a ghost of a show to get on the nine. As it is, you do not stand much chance, but——”
“But you are worried,” sneered Bart. “That is remarkable.”
“You do not stand much chance,” Noon repeated; “but I shall stand a better show if you retire, for the only man against me who is at all dangerous will be Stone. It is easy enough for you to get out. You can tell Merriwell that you have decided not to play, anyhow. That will settle it, if you stick to it. If you do that, I’m ready to swear that I saw one of the ‘townies’ flop the little cop up against the post.”
CHAPTER XII.
FRANK TALKS PLAINLY.
Merry listened breathlessly to hear what Hodge would say to that.
There was a few seconds of silence, during which Frank fancied he could hear Bart breathing heavily. Then Hodge spoke, and the scorn and contempt in his voice was withering.
“You have proved yourself to be just the cheap cur that I thought you were at first!” he said. “Nobody but a dirty dog would try to get the best of a rival in such a manner!”
Frank felt like crying out, “Good for you!” but clasped a hand over his mouth and held back the words, while he laughed softly with intense satisfaction.
Noon uttered a curse.