Frank Merriwell's Strong Arm; Or, Saving an Enemy

by Burt L. Standish

It was somewhat remarkable that Hock Mason, a man who had once been a bully, should have such a sensitive nature; but of late Frank had been studying the chap, and he found the Southerner a very queer character.

When he came to Yale, Mason had regarded himself as far superior to the majority of the students there, just as he fancied a man born in South Carolina must naturally be superior, everything considered, to a man born anywhere else. It had irritated him when he found that in the democratic atmosphere of Old Eli there was none to bow down and acknowledge him a superior. Then he had started out knocking into the heads of his associates the conviction that he was “the real thing,” but this policy had not worked very well. He became more and more disliked until he ran against Merriwell, who gave him a sound thrashing and took some of the growing conceit out of him.

But it was Merriwell’s interest in Mason while the latter lay ill in a hospital that completely won Hock. Not another soul came to inquire how Mason was getting along. Those who pretended to be his friends remained away, but daily Frank Merriwell called, and Frank it was who came first to the side of Hock’s cot when a visitor was permitted to see him.

When Mason left the hospital he was completely cured of his bullying inclinations. More than that, he had become a stanch friend of Merriwell.

Mason never anticipated that he would be accepted as a member of Merriwell’s “flock.” That was too much for him to dare to hope. All the same, he was stanch and true. He did not obtrude himself on Merry or Merry’s friends, and he conducted himself modestly and quietly.

By some it was thought that the spirit of the Southerner had been broken, which, however, was not the case. He had simply learned his lesson, and learned it well. When the time came he showed that he had quite as much spirit as of old. And he could fight better when forced to do so, for he knew he was fighting in a just cause.

But for all that Mason had once seemed to be a bully, there was not much of the bulldog about him. He was not a quitter, but he felt always that it was best to get out of a thing before he was kicked out.

Not till he was pulled into Merriwell’s set did he become one of the circle. Even then he was rather quiet, although his quietness was that of pride, instead of modesty. Sometimes this sort of retiring pride is mistaken for modesty.

After chapel Hock had plenty of time to think. He kept away from his eating-club, finding breakfast at a lunch-cart. He knew it would do him little good to study that day, but he tried to apply himself. As he was leaving his room some time after breakfast, he paused at the head of the flight of stairs. At the foot of the flight, three men were talking.