“Well, perhaps I did. I wanted to make use of you. Now you are no earthly use to me, and I want my money.”
“Wait,” urged Arnold shakingly. “Don’t say I’m no use to you. You can’t tell yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you going to give up? Are you going[going] to let Merriwell triumph over you?”
“No; by thunder, no!”
“I thought not. But we’ve both got to obey his command, or get it in the neck. I’m a freshman, but he is coaching the freshmen, and I hate him. Therefore, I don’t want them to win.”
“It would hit him hard if they failed!” panted Snodgrass.
“Sure thing,” nodded Arnold, lowering his voice to a whisper. “We can’t make any plans here, old man, but I believe in getting back at him, and I’ll help you do it.”
“How can it be done?”
“Don’t know yet; but we ought to be able to find a way. We must keep the freshmen from winning, somehow.”