Dade paled and perceptibly weakened.
“I don’t know the man. I heard that you had sent somebody to jail this afternoon, but I thought it was another name.”
“We want to be quite plain, Morgan. A man was jailed here to-day. He is your friend, Hector King, alias Dion Santenel, alias a dozen other things probably. What you and he have plotted against me and my father I don’t know; but I know of some things—enough to send him ‘up,’ I am sure. As I said, I will be quite frank with you. It is my way. I can’t prove it, but I am sure that all that skyrockety betting, on money which I believe you furnished, was done to get me and my polo-team out of New Haven to-day. I can’t prove it, and may not be able to prove it, unless Santenel makes a confession that you did that to give him opportunity to work his plans against my father.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Dade protested.
“I can’t prove those things, but I think I have collected enough evidence of various kinds against you to convince the faculty that you are not a proper person to be a student in Yale. Perhaps I can’t put you in jail, but I can send you headlong out of college.”
Dade whitened still more.
“And that is what you intend to do?” he demanded, almost fiercely.
“I don’t know. I have as yet reached no conclusion. But I am here now to ask you to tell me why you have struck at me? I see that there is a connection between you and Hector King, alias Santenel. When you entered Yale, at the beginning of this year, you had not, so far as I know, ever seen me before. At once you became my bitterest enemy. These things are not done without reason. You had some powerful reason.”
“I——”
Merriwell cut short the protest.