“Settin’ up there on Frank Merriwell’s shoulder——”
“And shakin’ hands with the Yale ball-team!”
“O-o-o-oh!”
And “O-o-o-oh!” groaned Watson himself, fairly green with envy.
“I’d like to lick him!” thought Watson. Then he put his hand to his jaw and mentally added: “But he can hit like thunder! I never s’posed he could slug that way. Don’t know as I could lick him if I tried.”
You couldn’t, Watson; you’ve lost confidence in yourself, and your day has passed, the sun of your glory has set to rise no more. You are deposed, Watson, and all your feeble struggles will make no difference now. King Jimmy the First is on the throne!
“Say, this is a right good lot of fun,” put in Jack Cunningham; “but if you’re Frank Merriwell, you’re the very feller I’m lookin’ for.”
“Looking for me?” asked Frank.
“Yes.”
“All right; I’ll give you my attention in a minute. Jimmy, I want that knot of blue ribbon. I believe it will be a mascot for me if I wear it to-day, and I’ll give it back to you to-night.”