“You’ll meet, for you are challenged. He thinks you a mark, Merry. He’ll be overconfident.”
“Another thing I count on as aiding me. Overconfidence is quite as bad as lack of confidence. Darleton has been praised too much, and he believes he is very nearly perfect as a fencer. A defeat now will either make or mar him. If defeated, he will either set about working harder to acquire further accomplishment, or he will quit.”
“I believe he’ll quit.”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t like him, Merry.”
“There is something about him that I do not fancy, myself. I’ve not seen him enough to judge what it is. I’ve tried to think it might be his freshness in shooting his mouth the way he did; but something asserts that I should have disliked him had he kept his mouth closed. He has an air of directness; but behind it there is a touch of cunning and craft that stamps him as crooked. I may sympathize with a weak chap who goes crooked through temptation; but I have no sympathy for a sly rascal who is dishonest with deliberation. If Darleton is naturally honest, I have misjudged him.”
There came a heavy knock on the door and the sound of voices outside.
Bart unlocked the door, and Joe Gamp stalked in, followed by Jack Ready, Hans Dunnerwurst, and Jim Stretcher, all of Merriwell’s party.
“Ding this tut-tut-tut-tut-tut——” began Joe.
“Tut, tut!” interrupted Jack. “Eliminate repetitions from your profuse flow of language, Joseph.”