LITMIR.BIZ

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and then there was a sound of wheels outside. The sound stopped before the door.

      A few moments later some one ascended the stairs and there came a knock on the door.

      "Come in," called Frank.

      The door opened, and Roll Ditson sauntered in, smoking the inevitable cigarette.

      "Hello, Merry!" he cried, looking around. "All alone?"

      "All alone, Ditson," yawned Frank. "It's beastly stupid but I am having a hard pull at my studies."

      "Better come out with me and get a little air. It's stuffy here."

      "Oh, you'll have to excuse me to-night. I don't believe I'll go out."

      Ditson urged, but Frank persisted in refusing. Roll stopped near a table and picked up a stick of grease paint.

      "Hello! what's this?" he exclaimed. "Aren't going into amateur theatricals, are you, Merry?"

      "Oh, I don't know," smiled Frank. "I may do a turn."

      Ditson looked at Merriwell curiously, as if in doubt concerning his sincerity, but Frank simply continued to smile.

      "Indian red," said Roll, reading the lettering on the stick. "You don't mean to become a big chief, do you?"

      "Perhaps so."

      "Well, you are pretty sure to become a big chief here at Yale, old man," said Ditson, with apparent earnestness. "You will be a leader here some day."

      "Think so?"

      "Oh, I am dead sure of it."

      "Thank you."

      Merriwell yawned again.

      "Oh, come on!" Ditson urged. "You're stupid from digging over those books. Come out and have a walk."

      "No."

      "You won't?"

      "You'll have to excuse me to-night, Ditson."

      "All right. But say, I came near forgetting something. As I came in, there was a fellow down to the door who said he wanted to see you."

      "A fellow? Who was it?"

      "Don't know. Some of the students, I think."

      "Oh, if that is the case, go down and bring him up, Ditson. You can open the door and let him in without disturbing Mrs. Harrington."

      "All right," nodded Roll. "Sorry you won't come out, old fel. You'll get grouchy. Good-night."

      "Good-night."

      Ditson went out, and Frank heard him descending the stairs.

      "There'll be music in the air," muttered Merriwell as he again lay back in his chair, elevating his feet to the top of the table. "But the surprisers are liable to be surprised."

      He heard the front door creak. Often he wondered why Mrs. Harrington did not grease the hinges.

      Frank had good ears, and it was not long before he was sure he could hear rustlings and whisperings in the hall. Then one person seemed to ascend the stairs very slowly, but he made out that there were two or three others with that one, the others stepping as softly as possible.

      Merriwell remained cool and apparently quite unaware that anything unusual was taking place.

      The footsteps reached the head of the stairs and advanced to the door, on which there was a distinct knock.

      "Come in!" Frank once more called.

      The door was promptly flung open, and into the room strode a person who was wrapped in a big overcoat and wore a wide-brimmed hat slouched over his eyes. His face nearly to his eyes was covered with bushy whiskers.

      "Hello!" exclaimed Frank, as if surprised. "Who are you?"

      "'Sh!" hissed the stranger, with a warning gesture. "Are we alone?"

      "Yes."

      "Where is your roommate?"

      "Out."

      The fellow whistled sharply, and the next minute four masked lads appeared at the door and leaped into the room. One of them slammed the door shut and the others sprang at Frank.

      Merriwell flung a book at the first one, and it struck the fellow's mask, tearing it from his face.

      The well-known countenance of Bruce Browning was exposed!

      "Good-evening, Browning!" cheerfully called the lively freshman as he darted behind the table. "I have been expecting a call from you."

      "Grab him!" directed Browning. "Get hold of him!"

      Frank was on the point of uttering a whistle, but it was not required, for the whistle that came from the lips of the disguised fellow had served as a signal to the painted braves.

      There was a bang at the door, which flew open as if assaulted by a catapault, and into the room poured the disguised freshmen.

      The Indians leaped upon the masked sophomores, and for a short time a very sharp struggle took place.

      Bruce Browning did his best to escape from the room, but three of the savages laid hold of him, and he was finally subdued.

      "Out of the house with them as soon as possible," ordered Frank. "Come on, two or three of you. We must nail the hack and the fellows outside."

      Down to the door he led the way.

      Mrs. Harrington came out into the hall, caught a glimpse of the painted faces, uttered a wild shriek of terror, and dodged back, slamming the door.

      "All ready?" said Frank as he prepared to fling open the front door.

      "All ready!" panted Harry Rattleton, close behind him.

      "Don't let anybody get away," warned Merriwell. "I will look after the driver."

      "Go ahead."

      Creak! open swung the door, and out into the night leaped a youth who seemed to be hotly pursued by four painted and bloodthirsty-appearing redskins.

      The hack was standing exactly as Frank expected it would be, and he was on the box with the driver at two springs.

      "It's all right," he asserted. "We've got the fellow up there, though he did kick up some. A part of our gang was rigged up like Indians, and they nipped him all right."

      "It's the divil's own set ye shtudints are!" muttered the driver. "Av ye hurry, Oi'll sthay to take him away; but Oi'll not remain here long, fer it's th' cops will be down on us roight away."

      "We'll get away ahead of the cops, don't fear that," declared Frank. "They're bringing him downstairs now. We had to take two or three others with him; but well not bother with them long."

      "Arrah! th' poor freshman!" said the driver. "Oi'd not loike to be in his place this noight!"

      He was completely fooled, thinking all the time that Frank was one of the party he had brought there to capture the freshman.

      As they rushed out Frank had seen a fellow standing near the open door of the hack, and that fellow had promptly taken to flight at sight of the Indians, two of whom pursued him hotly.

      Frank hoped they would be able to overtake the fugitive, for if one of the party escaped he would report to the sophs, who were bound to make a big hustle to rescue their captured comrades.

      The disguised freshmen came downstairs, bearing their captives, who were swiftly thrust into the hack, which was a big, roomy, old-fashioned affair.

      As many of the freshmen as could do so piled inside and upon the hack, and then Frank gave the signal, the driver whipped up his horse and away they went.

      "East Rock," said Frank.

      "Eh?" exclaimed the driver. "Thot's not pwhere ye wur goin' in th' firrust place."

      "We have changed the programme. East Rock is where we are bound for now."

      "All

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