“I did,” nodded Merry. “I knew what he could do, for I saw him take the trophy at the St. Andrew’s Club, of Oberlin, Ohio, last week. We were made honorary members of the club and urged to compete for the cup. Hodge competed and won it.”
“Let’s walk over to the trackmaster’s house, Merriwell,” invited Fuller. “We’ll find them there.”
They sauntered over together, followed by some of the others. Manton and Frost were talking with Cleaves in front of the trackmaster’s house. Manton frowned at Merriwell as he approached.
“You did that very cleverly,” he said. “I suppose you’ll take the glory of your friend’s clever accomplishment?”
Frank was more than annoyed.
“I fail to understand why you should suppose anything of the sort,” he retorted.
“Why, you didn’t dare go against Cleaves, so you pushed Hodge into it. You have the reputation of being a great all-round champion, but I’ve noticed that much of your glory comes from the accomplishment of your friends. If any one wishes to know your secret method, that is it.”
“Evidently you’re something of a sorehead,” said Merriwell. “It’s a remarkable thing that a club of this sort always has at least one sorehead among its members. I wish to remind you that neither Hodge nor I came here with the idea of butting into your club and showing what we could do. We were invited as guests. You have attempted to show us up. Blame yourselves if things have not gone to suit you.”
“That’s plain talk,” said Bert Fuller. “I regret to see you exhibit such a spirit, Manton. At the suggestion of the social committee, I invited Mr. Merriwell and Mr. Hodge to visit us. They should be treated with proper courtesy while here.”