“Fellows,” said Parker, “there’s a light in Merriwell’s window. He must be in his room. Let’s go over and whoop her up under his window. Let’s show the blockheads who are against him what we think of him!”
“Come on!” was the cry.
Across the campus they swept. Word was passed around about what was going to happen, and it was a great crowd of college men that gathered beneath Merry’s window. Then somebody roared out a proposal for three cheers for Frank Merriwell, “the best man who ever made a touch-down.” And what a mighty cheer it was! They thundered their applause till the bare branches of the old elms quivered with the sound. Again and again they cheered.
At last the window was thrown open, and Frank appeared. What a greeting he received! It must have made his heart thrill! It must have made his eyes moist!
After a time, the crowd became quiet, and Frank spoke:
“Thank you,” he said, with a husky sound in his voice. “I don’t know just why you are cheering like that, but——”
“We’re cheering for the whitest man in college and the best football-player living!” shouted somebody.
“That’s putting it pretty strong,” laughed Frank.
“But not a bit too strong,” came back instantly. “They’ve put up a job on you, Merriwell, but we won’t stand for it!”
“No,” said Frank, “I do not think it was a job, boys. Steve Lorrimer is a true-blue Yale man, and he wouldn’t stoop to anything like that. Whatever he has done, I am sure he did because he believes it is for the best interest of Old Eli.”