LITMIR.BIZ

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twelve pounds to it.

      "Say!" exclaimed Buster, "if dat cove wot yer arter does you he's a boid!"

      "That's just what he is," nodded Bruce, streaming with perspiration. "He is a bad man to go against."

      "If yer ever gits at him wid dat left ye'll knock him out, sure."

      "He is like a panther on his feet, and I shall be in great luck if I find him with my left."

      "Yer don't want ter t'ink dat. Yer wants ter t'ink yer goin' ter find him anyhow. Dat's der way."

      "I have thought so before, and I have discovered that he is a wonderfully hard man to find."

      "Wen yer goin' ter fight him?"

      "I am going to try to make him meet me one week from to-day."

      "Where?"

      "I don't know yet."

      "Is he a squealer?"

      "I don't believe you could drag anything out of him with horses."

      "If dat's right yer might make it yere, an' it could be kept quiet. I'd charge a little somet'ing fer der use of der room, but dat wouldn't come out of eder of youse, fer we'd make der fellers pay wot come in ter see it."

      "We'll see about that," said Bruce. "But now I want to know that trick."

      "Oh, yes. I near fergot dat."

      "Well, I didn't."

      "Say, if yer use dat on him I don't t'ink we can have der scrap here."

      "Why not?"

      "If one of dem freshies got injuries in dis place so bad it might git out, an' dat would fix me."

      "I don't intend to use it on him unless I have to. Go ahead and explain your trick. If it isn't straight I want my money back."

      "Dere won't be any money back, fer der trick is all right, all right. Now stan' up here an' I'll show yer how it's did."

      Kelley then showed Bruce how to bring the edge of his open hand down on the upper side of an enemy's wrist just back of the joint.

      "Yer wants ter snap it like dis," Buster explained, illustrating with a sharp, rebounding motion. "If yer strikes him right dere wid der cushion meat on der lower edge of yer hand an' snaps yer hand erway like dis, it's dead sure ter break der bone. Jes' try it on yer own wrist, but be careful not ter try it too hard."

      Bruce did as directed, and he found that he hurt himself severely, although he struck a very light blow.

      "Dat's ter trick," said Kelley, "an' it's a dandy. Don't yer ever use it 'less yer dead sure yer wants ter break der odder feller's wrist."

      Then the professor called up a colored boy, who rubbed Bruce down, and the king of the sophomores finally departed.

      As he walked back toward his room in the dusk of early evening, Browning began to feel sorry that he had learned the trick at all.

      "It would be a dirty game to play on Merriwell," he muttered, "but now that I know it, I may get mad and do it in a huff, especially if I see Merriwell is getting the best of me."

      The more Browning thought the matter over the greater became his regret that he had learned the trick of breaking an opponent's wrist. For all that he had a strong feeling against Merriwell, he could see that the leader of the freshmen was square and manly, and he did not believe Frank would take an unfair advantage of a foe.

      Bruce became quite unlike his old jovial self. He was strangely downcast and moody, and he saw that he was fast losing prestige with those who had once regarded him as their leader.

      Hartwick, Browning's roommate, was more bitter against Merriwell.

      "The confounded upstart!" he would growl. "Think of his coming here and carrying things on with such a high hand! When we were freshmen the sophomores had everything their own way. They Lambda Chied us till they became sick of it, and all our attempts to get even proved failures. Now the freshmen who are following the lead of this fellow Merriwell seem to think that they are cocks of the walk. I tell you what it is, Bruce, you must do that fellow, and you must do him so he will stay done."

      "Oh, I don't believe he is such a bad fellow at heart, It wouldn't be right to injure him permanently."

      "Wouldn't it? Give me the chance and see if I don't fix him."

      Hartwick began to regard his roommate with disdain.

      "For goodness' sake, don't get soft," he implored. "The fellows will say you are chicken-hearted, and that will settle your case. You'll never get back to your old position if you once lose it."

      "I'd rather be thought chicken-hearted than hold my position by dirty play."

      Hartwick made no retort, but it was plain to see that he entertained a different view of a case like the one in question.

      Browning worked like a beaver to get himself in shape for the coming struggle, but he promised himself over and over that he would never do such a thing again. It was pride and hope that sustained him through his severe course of training.

      "No fresh mug can do youse now," Buster Kelley finally declared. "I'll put me dough on you, an' I'll win, too."

      Bruce was really in very good form, and he felt that he stood more than an even chance with Merriwell.

      He had seen the freshman fight, however, and he realized that he would not have a walkover.

      The freshmen began to think that Browning feared to meet Merriwell, and they openly told him as much. They taunted him to such an extent that it was with the utmost difficulty he held himself in check till the expiration of the time he had set for getting himself in condition.

      "What if I should see the freshman getting the best of me and should break his wrist?" he thought. "I might make it appear to be an accident, but I would know better myself. I'd get the best of Merriwell, and the fellows would still hail me as King Browning, but I would be ashamed of myself all the while."

      It was that thought which troubled him so much and made him appear so grouchy.

      "Browning is in a blue funk whenever he thinks of stacking up against the freshman," one sophomore confidentially told another. "I believe he has lost his nerve."

      "It looks that way," admitted the other.

      Thus it came about that Bruce's appearance led his former admirers to misjudge him, and he saw a growing coolness toward him.

      "I'll meet Merriwell on the level," he finally decided, "and I will whip him on the level or I'll not whip him at all."

      Then he instructed Hartwick to carry a challenge to Frank.

      "I will fight him with hard gloves," said Bruce.

      He had decided that with a glove on his hand he could not easily perform the trick of breaking his enemy's wrist in case he was seized by an impulse to do so.

      "Gloves?" cried Hartwick. "Why, man, why don't you challenge him to meet you with bare fists?"

      "Because I have decided that gloves are all right."

      "The fellows will say you are afraid."

      "Let them say so if they like," returned Bruce, but he winced a bit, as if a tender spot had been touched.

      Hartwick did his test to induce his friend to challenge Merriwell to a fight with bare fists, but Bruce had made up his mind and he was obstinate.

      So it came about that Hartwick carried the challenge just as Browning desired, and it was promptly accepted. Merriwell was not a fellow who sought trouble, but he knew he must meet Browning or be called a coward, and he did not dally. He quietly told Hartwick that any arrangements Mr. Browning saw fit to make would be agreeable to him. In that way he put Browning on his honor to give him a square deal.

      The matter was kept very quiet. It was decided that the match should come off in Kelley's back room, and a few of Merriwell's

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