“If we didn’t shake his nerve that time, he must be made of iron!” chuckled Ben Halliday.
“It was great!” snickered Rattleton; “simply great! Why, Merry looked so much like he was dying that I actually shed real tears!”
“He did look like a dying person,” nodded Roger Stone. “The gash in his shirt and the stain of red ink was a great piece of artistic work.”
“It’s a good thing the front of the monster was well padded,” smiled Frank, “for Ready sunk his knife for fair.”
“Well, he’s having a fine time in there with the skeleton now!” grinned Ned Noon. “Say, if his hair doesn’t turn gray, he has got nerve!”
“He’s a pretty good sort of fellow, anyhow,” said Frank, putting on his cuffs and coat. “He has a way about him that makes me take to him all right.”
“If he takes a fancy to blow about this night, he can get us into trouble,” observed a timid sophomore. “I was for doing the job masked.”
“The man who blows about a little mild sport of this sort is a cad,” asserted Mat Mullen.
“If you call this mild sport,” said Merriwell, “what would you designate as the other kind?”
“He ought to be pounding on the door and yelling to get out of that room by this time,” grinned Ned Noon.