Merriwell’s friends rushed down and gathered round him.
“Ye gods and little fish-hooks!” spouted Ready, posing before Frank. “But you do look like a freak! And to think this is the fastidious Frank Merriwell!”
“Merry, you’re a dim-jandy!” spluttered Rattleton, grasping Frank by the hand. “You’ve given us any amount of fun!”
“More sport than I’ve had before in a month,” rumbled Browning. “I can have lots of fun out of baseball when I don’t have to play.”
“But I’m th-th-th-thundering mad!” stuttered Gamp fiercely.
“What about?” asked Merry.
“You mum-mum-mum-mocked my laugh,” said Joe. “Gosh-ding if I didn’t think sometimes that I was lul-lul-lul-laughin’ myself!”
“Couldn’t anybody else do the trick you did, Merry,” said Hodge.
“It was better than a round-up,” nodded Berlin Carson.
“Heap much big time!” put in Old Joe Crowfoot, who had joined the group.