“Oh, wot yer givin’ me! If I can have a good chance at him I’ll polish der duck off in one minute.”
“You may have as good a chance as you want. He goes out to the ball-field every afternoon lately, and he has taken to walking in alone just at dark. He always returns to Vanderbilt a certain way. There are some scattering houses and an open spot. No lights there to speak of. A fine chance to come on him suddenly.”
“Well, say! you oughter be able ter do him yerself widout callin’ on me fer help. Wot’s der matter wid layin’ for him dere an’ soakin’ him wid a club?”
“I have to be somewhere else when it happens. If I’m suspected, I want to prove an alibi.”
“Is dat it? Don’t s’pose it’s ’cause yer lacks der nerve? Of course not!”
The thugs laughed roughly, and Snodgrass flushed a little.
“It would be no disgrace to be afraid of this man,” he asserted, somewhat haughtily.
“Well, who der blazes can it be?” cried Buster Bill.
“His name is Frank Merriwell,” said the student.
“Wot!” cried the leader of the gang. “Why, you don’t mean der feller wot everybody is makin’ such a fuss over? Not der cap’n of der ball-team?”