LITMIR.BIZ

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"How that hurt! Don't do it again!"

      "You fellows have things twisted," asserted Parker, with apparent seriousness. "I have private advices that Merriwell's father is a poor dentist."

      "A poor dentist, eh?"

      "Yes, rather poor, but he manages to pull out."

      Tad Horner fell off the back of his chair and struck sprawling on the floor.

      "Water!" he gasped.

      "You wouldn't know it if you saw it," grinned Parker.

      "Without a doubt and without any fooling, Merriwell's father is dead," said Hod Chadwick.

      "Do you know this for a fact?" asked Swallows.

      "Yes. It is said that he died on the field."

      "Then he was a soldier?"

      "No; a baseball umpire."

      "This is a very dry crowd," laughed Browning.

      "I should think you would say something," hinted Chadwick.

      "It isn't in the house. We'll go down to Morey's after supper settles and I'll blow."

      "To fizz?"

      "Not this evening. Ale is good enough for this crowd."

      "Oh, I don't suppose we can kick at that. But we were speaking about Merriwell and the freshman crew. How are we to escape death at their hands?"

      "Have another cigarette all around," invited Parker as he passed them.

      "That's too slow, but I'll take a cigarette just the same."

      Hartwick got up and walked about in a corner, showing nervousness. They urged him to sit down and take things easy. He felt like making a break and getting out, but he knew they would roar with laughter if he did.

      "You fellows are a lot of chumps!" he exclaimed, suddenly getting angry. "You treat this matter lightly now, but you are likely to change your tune after the race."

      The boys were well satisfied, for they saw he was getting aroused.

      "Oh, I don't know as we treat it so very lightly," said Emery. "We've got to have our fun, no matter what we may think."

      "But every one of you is of the opinion that we are going to have a cinch with the freshmen."

      "It does look easy."

      "Have they been easy thus far?"

      "Oh, that's different."

      "You will find this is different when it is all over."

      "Now, see here, Hartwick," said Parker; "you are the only soph who does not think we have a soft thing with the freshmen. What's the matter with you?"

      "Why, he wants to disagree with us, that's all," said Browning. "Why, he wouldn't eat anything if he thought it would agree with him. That's the kind of a man he is."

      Hartwick looked disgusted.

      "Keep it up! keep it up!" he cried. "But you'll find out!"

      "Now, see here, man," said Parker once more; "are you stuck on Merriwell?"

      Hartwick showed still greater disgust, his eyes flashing.

      "Stuck on him!" he cried. "Well, not any! You fellows ought to know that! Stuck on him! That gives me pains!"

      "Well, I couldn't see what ailed you unless you were."

      "It is because I am not stuck on him that I am so anxious to beat him, as you fellows ought to be able to see."

      "Oh, that's it? Excuse me! Well, now, how is he going to make a lot of lubberly freshies beat us?"

      "He's found some men who can pull oars all right, and he has introduced a few innovations that will be surprises."

      "How do you know so much about it?"

      "I have been investigating, and I am not the only one."

      "Well, what are his innovations?"

      "The Oxford oar, in the first place."

      "What is that?"

      "Two to four inches longer than our oar, with a blade five and one-half inches wide, instead of seven inches."

      "For goodness' sake, what is the advantage of such an oar?"

      "I'll tell you. With a short course and high stroke no set of men are strong enough to use the old oar and go the distance without weakening. You must admit that."

      "Well?"

      "With the narrow blades a longer oar can be used and the leverage increased. That is plain enough."

      The boys were silent for some moments. Here was a matter they had not considered, and they were forced to confess that it was a point for discussion.

      "But that is not enough to enable the freshmen to win, even admitting the English oar to be better, which has not been proven," said Emery.

      "By Jawve! I am rather inclined to believe the English oar is superior, don't yer know," put in Willis Paulding.

      "That's not surprising in your case," said Emery.

      "That's not all Merriwell has done," declared Hartwick.

      "What else has he done?"

      "He has introduced the Oxford style of catch, finish and length of strokes, which means a longer swing, with more leg and body work."

      "Well, that will cook 'em!" cried Tad Horner. "If he has done that, we'll make a show of those greenies."

      "What reason have you for thinking anything of the sort?"

      "Every reason. The regular Yale stroke cannot be improved upon. That is beyond question."

      Hartwick smiled wearily.

      "That's what I call conceit," he said. "You don't know whether it can be improved upon or not."

      There was an outburst of protests by the boys, who believed, as almost every Yale man believes, that Yale methods are correct and cannot be improved upon. Hartwick was regarded as disloyal, and all felt like giving it to him hot.

      "A longer body swing is certain to make a difficult recovery," said Browning. "That is plain enough."

      "Not if the men are worked right and put in proper form," declared Hartwick. "I have been told that the English long stroke and recovery is very graceful and easy, and that it does not wear on a man like the American stroke."

      "By Jawve! I think that's right, don't yer know," said Paulding.

      "What you think doesn't count," muttered Tad Horner.

      "With such a stroke and swing the men are bound to recover on their toes," asserted Browning.

      "Oh, rats!" said Punch Swallows. "What does that amount to, anyway, in a case like this? We are talking of this tub load of freshmen as if they were the 'Varsity crew. What's the use? It won't make any difference what kind of a stroke they use. They are mighty liable to use several different kinds, and they won't be in it at all, my children. Let's go down to Morey's and oil up."

      "Go ahead," said Hartwick, grimly. "But you will think over what I have said after the race comes off."

      The boys put on their caps and trooped out, laughing and talking as they went.

      CHAPTER XVIII.

       MERRIWELL AND RATTLETON.

       Table of Contents

      "Harry!"

      "Hello!"

      "You've got to stop smoking those confounded cigarettes."

      Harry Rattleton let his feet fall with a thump from the table on which

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