“I have decided not to try to force Dade Morgan out of Yale,” said Frank, talking over the situation afterward with Bart Hodge. “I have been in a dilemma about it. The fellow is almost a genius in some lines. He might go headlong to the bad if I should move against him, while a little leniency and kindness may let him see where he stands and turn him in the right direction. With Santenel dead, I see no reason why he should attempt anything further against me.”
“I guess you are right,” Hodge admitted. “There seems to be no reason why he should strike at you again. But it’s awfully hard for a rattlesnake to forget that it is a rattlesnake.”
CHAPTER XXV
IN FRANK’S ROOM.
“I say, Merriwell,” cried Jack Ready, strolling into Frank’s room, his hat set rakishly over one ear and his hands thrust into his trousers pockets, “do you know what they call a young black cat in England?”
“Why, I’ve been in England,” said Frank, rising from his open trunk, which he was packing, “but I don’t believe I can tell what they call a young black cat over there.”
“Why,” chuckled the visitor, with great satisfaction, “they call her ‘kitty, kitty,’ just the same as we do on this side of the water. Oh, Merry, you’re a good thing!”
Frank laughed heartily, Ready’s jovial mood being contagious.
“You’re steadily growing sharper and sharper, old man,” said Merry. “You’re becoming dangerous to fool with of late.”
“Oh, yes,” nodded Jack, striking a pose, with one hand thrust into the opening of his vest. “The mantle of Bink Stubbs hath descended upon me and I am ‘it.’ I am making enemies in a merry way with my persiflage. Sprung that on two other fellows this morning. One told me it was so old it had whiskers, while the other got his back up and wanted to t’ump me in my mild, blue eye. This being a practical joker is getting to be a great responsibility, and I feel the strain. I am glad vacation is at hand, as it will serve to give me a short breathing-spell. Packing your paper collars and pajamas? Leave to-morrow, I suppose? Whither do you fly?”