The entire party seemed highly incensed by the words and behavior of Manners and Ridgely, but the latter continued to insist that it was nothing but a joke.
“I’d back Merriwell myself,” he averred. “That is, I’d back him in his own field. I wouldn’t put him up against professionals. It would be folly to back him against Jeffries in the ring.”
“Don’t mind him,” said Harriman. “Some one will settle him for insulting guests of the club.”
“But I haven’t insulted any one,” persisted Ridgely. “Some silly persons might put an amateur against a professional. What would Merriwell or any other amateur do against a professional wrestler like Americus?”
“They say Americus is going to show up Hashi, the jujutsu chap, to-morrow night,” said Manners.
“What’s that?” exclaimed the voice of a newcomer. “Well, I’ll bet five hundred dollars that Americus or any other man in Baltimore can’t get the best of my friend Hashi. If there is any one here who thinks he can handle Hashi—well, here’s Hashi to give him the chance.”
The speaker was Fred Fillmore, and he was accompanied by the Japanese master of jujutsu.
“’Ware, Merry!” hissed Hodge, quick as a flash.
Instinctively he knew there was something in the air. He felt it like an electric shock. Frank did not need the warning. He, too, felt a sudden tightening of his nerves.