“You came back at him rather handsomely, donchuknow,” said the Duke, with an air of pleasing condescension; “but the way it ended it only gave him a chance to make the claim that our friend Kadir Dhin is standing in with this mysterious Hindu, who is said to be round here, and who is cutting up such queer pranks, donchuknow, that it’s hard work to believe in them.”
“He’s been saying something new about me?” Kadir Dhin said, flaming.
“He says, I’m told, that this Hindu—if the rascal really exists, and is your uncle, I beg your pardon!—he says the Hindu couldn’t have got hold of a Fardale uniform if you hadn’t assisted him; and that he couldn’t have pulled off that trunk trick, either, without your aid.”
The tense look that had come to the face of Kadir Dhin softened, and he relaxed his strained attitude and dropped back into his chair. For an instant it seemed an explosion would come; but all he said, in a weak voice, was:
“Oh, well, let him talk! The more he talks against me the more he will hurt himself with Colonel Gunn. It’s known everywhere that the barracks have been burglarized and uniforms stolen.”
“By careful work we can create a prejudice against him among the students who do not like his high-and-mighty ways, donchuknow,” the Duke urged, “and among those who will be inclined to sympathize with Kadir Dhin. We can also put through some scheme to blacken him so in the eyes of Colonel Gunn that he will be thrown out of Fardale.”
“That’s right,” said Avery. “Gunn is sore on him on account of what has happened to Kadir Dhin, remember, and that feeling can be increased.”
“What is this plan?” growled Carson. “Put it on exhibition!”
The Duke laughed softly. He could be very pleasant, when he dropped his stilted manners and his air of superiority.
“A thought has just come to me”—it had been in his mind all day—“that if you want to make sure that Chip Merriwell goes out of Fardale, it can be worked by Kadir Dhin. He is quite a hypnotist——”