LITMIR.BIZ

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settled."

      "Good! Now we'll see if Jackson has fixed matters."

      One of the policemen was having a talk with Plug Kirby. Kirby seemed rather sullen and obstinate.

      "I weren't doin' notting to git me head t'umped like dis," he muttered, sulkily. "Me frien' Merriwell was bein' jumped by a gang, an' I went in fer ter back him up. You cops lets der gang git off, an' den yer pinches us. I don't care wot yer do wid me, an' I don't make no promises. Go on wid yer deal."

      Here Frank Merriwell stepped in.

      "You profess to be a friend of mine, Kirby," he said.

      "Dat's wot I am, pal," nodded the tough.

      "Then show it. If I am pulled up before a magistrate, it is pretty sure that I'll be expelled from college, which will be rough on me. If you are my friend, you will agree to keep your mouth shut about this affair. If you are my enemy, you will refuse."

      "Well, pal, if yer puts it dat way, I can't refuse yer. I did kinder reckon you'd stan' by me when I was hauled up, an' I t'ought your influence might fix t'ings; but, if it's der way you say, I'll take me medicine, an' never open me trap. Is dat satisfactory?"

      "You have not been placed under arrest at all—understand that?" demanded Officer Murphy.

      "Sure."

      "And you know nothing about a row in this place. Catch on?"

      "Sure."

      "You're doing this for your friend Merriwell. See?"

      "Sure."

      "That's all. We'll have a drink all around on Jackson, and I'll club the head off you, Kirby, if you blow anything."

      Frank took seltzer, while the others drank beer or whiskey, according to their fancy.

      Ten minutes later, Merriwell, Diamond and Kirby were let out of Jackson's by the back door.

      When they were at some distance from the saloon, Frank turned to the bruiser and said:

      "Diamond tells me that you got into this trouble by attempting to defend me, Kirby. I am sure I appreciate it, but I had rather you would drop calling me your friend. You can do me more harm that way than any other."

      "All right," nodded Plug, gloomily. "Dat goes. I know I ain't in your class, an' I don't want ter do yer no hurt. All der same, if I git a chance ter fight fer yer any time, I'll do dat."

      Frank appreciated the kindness of the big bruiser, whose admiration he had won by giving him a severe thrashing.

      "All right, Kirby," he laughed. "I certainly can't object if you want to fight for me. There have been times when I could have found you quite useful in pitting you against ruffians who had tried to injure me. Are you down on your luck nowadays?"

      "Well, rudder!"

      "Well, here's a V. Go play you are a millionaire."

      Kirby eagerly grasped the five-dollar bill which Frank passed him, earnestly exclaiming:

      "If youse ain't der whites' young cove what I ever seen, I'm a liar! If yer wants me ter do up der whole gang as was ag'inst yer ter-night, jest you say so! I'd like der job."

      "If I need you, I'll let you know," assured Frank. "Good-night."

      Plug doffed his battered hat.

      "Good-night, young gent. May ye alwus prosper, an' may Old Nick take yer enemies."

      As Frank and Jack walked toward their rooms in South Middle, the Virginian observed:

      "You are the strangest fellow I ever saw, Merriwell. When you do make a friend he is ready to go through fire for you, and you make friends of all sorts and conditions of persons. Your friends are as firm and unwavering as your enemies are virulent and dangerous."

      "And still I seldom seek the friendship of any one," declared Merriwell. "If they wish to be my friends, I accept them for what they show themselves to be. If they choose to be my enemies, well and good; let them look out for themselves. To-night I have found that a new combine of enemies has risen against me. I know them all, and I shall treat them as they deserve."

      CHAPTER XI.

       A MATTER OF SPECULATION.

       Table of Contents

      Frank spent an hour every afternoon in the gymnasium, where he took such exercise as he considered best, always spending at least a few minutes of the time on one of the rowing machines.

      A great deal of speculation had been aroused by Bob Collingwood's determination to take Merriwell upon the 'varsity crew.

      It was known that Collingwood was a thorough believer in the American oar and American stroke as opposed to the shorter-bladed Oxford oar and the longer English stroke.

      Collingwood had ever seemed thoroughly satisfied with Yale methods, and he had expressed his scorn of the Oxford method of placing the seats on alternate sides of the boat.

      It was generally presumed that Frank Merriwell was thoroughly English in his ideas and beliefs, and it was thought that he was altogether too set to give up what he fancied was right, even though he might get on the crew by so doing.

      Still some one had been forced to give in, and there was much speculation about it. Then came the rumor that Yale was to have an English coach, and the tongues of the gossips began to wag furiously.

      "It's a great triumph for Frank Merriwell!" cried Danny Griswold to a party of friends gathered in the gym.

      Danny was flushed and perspiring from recent violent exertions on the bars. Some of the group about him were in training suits, and some were in street dress.

      "Also a triumph for good old 'Umpty-eight," declared Ben Halliday, with satisfaction.

      "How is that?" asked Bandy Robinson.

      "Why," answered Halliday, "it was the freshman crew of 'Umpty-eight that, under Merriwell's instructions, adopted the Oxford oar and stroke and defeated 'Umpty-seven at Saltonstall. Do you see?"

      "Vanity, vanity," quoth Dismal Jones, with the air of a Methodist preacher of old times. "They who exalt themselves in high places shall be cast down. Beware of false pride and the swelled head."

      "Oh, you are always croaking!" exclaimed Lewis Little.

      "I think it is a mistake to run off onto English methods," said Burn Putnam. "Harvard has done that, and they'll say we are following Harvard's example."

      "What if they do say so?" yawned Bruce Browning, lazily. "What do we care, so long as we win the race at New London?"

      "But we can't win this year," declared Walter Gordan, who had been swinging the clubs, and was flushed from the exertion. "It strikes me it is a crazy scheme to attempt to change the oars and the stroke at this late day. Harvard has been hammering away at her crew since last fall, and it will be in perfect trim when the New London race comes off, while Yale's crew will be all broken up if this change of methods occurs."

      This seemed logical, and not a few were ready to agree with Gordan. Harry Rattleton came up, and the lads appealed to him at once.

      "You are Merriwell's roommate," said Robinson, "and you should know if it is true that Yale is going to change her oars and stroke for the Oxford oar and stroke."

      Harry grinned mysteriously.

      "Why should I know all this just because I am Merriwell's roommate?" he asked. "Do you think he knows everything he tells me—I mean do you think he tells me everything he knows?"

      "Of course not, but he'd be sure to tell you this, for you know he introduced English methods with 'Umpty-eight last year, and he must be rather proud if Collingwood has given in that those methods are preferable to the old Yale ways."

      "If Merry

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