Frank was holding himself well in hand, although burning with indignation.
“We would like to know the meaning of this,” he said. “Do the hotels in this town ever accommodate transient guests?”
“Certain they do.”
“There are only two hotels here.”
“That’s correct.”
“Well, we have applied to both, and neither will take us in. Where are we to go?”
“That ain’t none o’ my business, is it?” yapped the landlord. “If my place is full you can’t force me to take ye in. Git out! I can’t bother with ye.”
Merriwell felt like making trouble, but knew it would do no good and might do a great deal of harm. He longed to talk straight to the insolent little man who snapped like a bad-natured dog; but that, too, he believed would be a mistake, and so he turned to his companions, saying:
“Come on, boys.”
“Wait!” cried Bart Hodge, his dark eyes blazing—“wait until I tell this imitation of a real man a few things!”