"What's that?" shouted Rattleton. "If you don't do anything, lots of the fellows will think the stories are true."
"Let them."
"I wouldn't stand it! I'd hunch somebody's ped—I mean, punch somebody's head."
"The fellows who heard it all know if Marline drove me into my boots."
"All right!" said Rattleton. "If you don't do anything about it, I shall. I'm going to find out who started the yarns, and then I'm going to punch him!"
And Rattleton went forth in search of some one to punch.
And he was not the only one, as we shall see.
Within three days Marline was able to get around, with the aid of a cane. His ankle was improving swiftly, and he expected it would be nearly as well as ever in less than a week.
Marline had a following. There were some rattle-brained young fellows in the college who looked on him with admiration, as it was known he came from a fighting family, and was just as ready to face a foe on "the field of honor" as any of his ancestors had been before him.
Marline considered himself a "careful drinker," for he took about a certain number of drinks each day, seldom allowing himself to indulge in more than his allowance.