“Never! There are plenty of others. I refuse to be sacrificed again for the public good.”
“What is this rumor I’ve been hearing lately?” broke in Julian Ives, thrusting his cap back and patting down his pet bang. “It can’t be true that Merriwell got out because he knew he must fail at exams this spring. He has wasted his time, it is said, in athletics and such folly, till now he is face to face with failure in his studies, and he can’t stand that. Rather than to be set back a year he has taken himself out of the way, and he’ll not be seen here again.”
“And I brand that as a malicious lie!” rang out a clear voice.
It was Bart Hodge, who had approached in time to hear Ives’ words. There was a black look of anger on Bart’s face, and his flashing eyes glared with scorn and contempt at Julian.
“There is a very good reason for Merriwell’s absence,” declared Hodge. “Starbright saw him in New York and said he would surely be here in a day or two.”
“But Starbright did not tell what was keeping him away, you know,” gently said Rupert Chickering. “I have nothing against Merriwell, and I sincerely hope the rumors about him are not true, but I have begun to entertain fears.”
“Bah!” exclaimed Hodge, giving Rupert a look of intense scorn. “Why do you still play the hypocrite, Chickering? Everybody knows you. Everybody knows you hate Merriwell and would do anything in your power to injure him.”
Chickering held up his hands, his face expressing denial, resentment, and martyrlike anguish.
“You are very unjust!” he exclaimed. “But as you are a fellow of violent passions, I will forgive you and try to forget your unjust judgment of me. Still, I advise you to remember the Biblical injunction, ‘Judge not that ye be not judged.’”
“Oh, you make me sick!” was Hodge’s rather unoriginal retort. “You are the most sickening thing of your whole sickening crowd. You disguise your hatred under pretense of generosity, even of friendliness—that is, you try to disguise it. But every one is onto you, and it is well known that you are trying to stab a man in the back when you say a pretendedly kind thing about him. That brands you as a snake in the grass, Chickering! This is plain talk, but I’ve been waiting for just this opportunity to make it, and if you or any of your friends wish to pick it up now or any other time, you all know where to find me.”