Of course, it was known by this time that there had been some kind of an encounter between these two, and the students generally were interested to learn how it had resulted.
Finding Merriwell had obtained admission to Bart’s room, Jack Ready sought it. His second knock on Hodge’s door caused Bart to turn the key in the lock.
“Important, dear boy,” declared Jack, as he rushed right in. “Refuse me! Awfully dark here. Why don’t you run up your curtain?”
Ready was about to lift the curtain when Hodge harshly growled for him to let it alone.
“Refuse me!” exclaimed Jack again. “Are you ill?”
“Bad headache,” said Bart. “What in thunder do you want? You’re enough to make a well man sick!”
“Thanks, awfully,” chirped Ready. “I don’t mind if I do sit down.” He took a chair. “Now, what I wanted to see you about is this: You and I agree on one point—Mason is N. G. on the nine. He lacks sand.”
“Who said so?” demanded Hodge.
“Why, I though somebody told me you said so.”