Frank Merriwell's Races

by Burt L. Standish

"Eh?" grunted Browning, who already had deposited his corpulent body on the couch. "Did anybody speak to me?"

"Ah, Mr. Browning," said Creighton, "I think you said as we were coming along that you have had the pleasure of seeing 'Uncle Tom's Cabin'?"

"Yes, I said so."

"Then permit me to inquire if you have ever seen 'Ten Nights in a Barroom'?"

"No," grunted Bruce; "but I have seen ten barrooms in a night."

"Here, hold up!" cried Griswold, promptly. "That

belongs to me, and I have used it on everybody I could hit with it."

"Never mind," murmured Browning. "It is a good thing, so we'll have to move it along."

"Seriously," said Diamond, "there is a crummy 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' company at a cheap theatre in town, and Creighton has purchased a box. He wants us to go along."

"That's the idea," acknowledged Charlie. "All the fellows are onto it, and there will be two or three hundred Yale boys there. We won't do a thing to the hamfatters!"