“Just what I said,” declared Ditson, with cool defiance. “I do not regard Merriwell as the finest fellow in the world, but far from it. In fact, I think he is——”
“Hold on!” Bart’s hand was outflung. “Be careful what you say!”
“Whew!” whistled Roland. “This is a free country, and my tongue is my own. You can’t muzzle me here, Hodge, and I shall express my opinion of Merriwell if I wish.”
“Don’t do it! There is a lady present.”
“Well, it is true that I couldn’t properly say just what I think of Merriwell in the presence of a lady.”
Bart was beginning to tremble again, but this time it was for an emotion entirely different from the one that had possessed him a short time before. He longed to walk to Roland and knock him down without another word.
“I shall be glad to go outside with you and hear you express yourself,” said Bart, in a manner that Roland could not misunderstand.
Now Ditson had no fancy for getting into a fight with Hodge, who had a reputation as a chap who had as soon fight as eat.
“Excuse me,” he said airily. “I haven’t time, you know. I’m looking for Ned Parker. I want to tell him that Virginia is dead sure to win the ball-game to-day. Yale will not be in the game at all.”
“Your wisdom does you credit!” returned Bart scornfully.