“You bet,” answered the bruiser. “Cameron signed me for my hittin’. There ain’t no pitcher in the business that I can’t hit.”
“That should make you tremble, Frank,” laughed Morgan.
None of the young thugs offered to molest Merry or his party as they entered the hotel.
Cameron was waiting for them in the office.
“Here you are, I see!” he cried. “I was afraid you might back out, after all, and try to skip out of town.”
“Your fears were quite groundless,” said Merriwell.
“Well, everything is fixed for you here. I told you I’d arrange it. You’re to have the very best the house affords, and I’ll settle the bills. I can afford to, considering the trimming we’re going to hand out to you to-morrow.”
“You seem inclined to count your chickens before they are hatched,” said Frank.
“Do you have an idea that you’ll win?”
“Of course.”