The newcomer paused and surveyed the party critically.
“Well, now, you’re a hot bunch, ain’t yer!” he said. “You’re certainly goin’ it some. Tryin’ ter drownd yerselves wid beer, hey?”
Fillmore hastened to Husker Galway and shook hands with him. Others rose and greeted him in a similar manner. In the pugilist’s ear Fillmore whispered:
“I’m going to give you a knockdown to the chap I phoned you about. Get him into a bout and mark him up as much as you can. Give him a black eye or two, if possible.”
“Does he t’ink he can scrap?”
“He thinks he can do anything and everything.”
“I’ll take some of der wind outer him in a hurry,” promised Galway.
“This is our boxing instructor, Husker Galway, Mr. Merriwell,” said Fillmore, introducing them.
“’Waryer!” said Husker, seizing Frank’s hand.