LITMIR.BIZ

      CHAPTER XXI.

       THE RIVAL PROFESSORS.

       Table of Contents

      Professor Jenks and Professor Scotch were rivals. Each admired and sought to win the affections of a widow of uncertain years, who lived in Fardale village.

      For some years Professor Gunn's two assistants had been very friendly, but Nancy Cobb, the widow spoken of, was the rock on which they split.

      Their jealousy often caused them to completely forget their dignity, and they did things that made them utterly ridiculous in the eyes of all beholders.

      As yet, neither had possessed nerve enough to propose to the widow, and so, wishing to make a sure catch, the elderly lady had clung to both, ready to jump at the first one who should offer himself.

      The cause of the ill-will existing between the under professors was well known to the cadets at Fardale Academy, and had provided them with no small amount of sport.

      Now it happened that Tad Jones, a village lad who was very well known to Frank Merriwell, was the nephew of the coquettish widow, and the widow made her home with Tad's father and mother.

      Tad was a lively youngster, who liked fun, and, in more ways than one, he was "a thorn in the flesh" unto his aunt.

      One day he succeeded in seeing Frank, whom he informed that he had put up another joke on his Aunt Nancy.

      "I've been imertatin' her handwritin' lately," said Tad, "and I've got so I can scrawl jest like her. Old Scotch and Jenks ain't never run onto each other at our house, but I've fixed it."

      Tad grinned gleefully, as he made this declaration.

      "Fixed it, how?" asked Frank.

      "Why, I writ 'em both a letter, askin' 'em to call to-night at eight o'clock, and I signed Nancy's name. I made the letters jest a little spooney, but not too much so. I'll bet they'll be tickled to death, and they'll come sure."

      "And meet there?"

      "Yep."

      "There's liable to be trouble."

      "That's what we're lookin' for," chuckled the fun-loving youngster. "Oh, if they'd jest fight!"

      "I'd like to see the circus."

      "Come on over."

      "I don't know as I can get away. I will come if I can."

      "All right. Bring along any of the fellers."

      That night Frank found a way to get leave to go to the village, and Hans, whom he had told of the coming "racket," escaped from the building and joined him outside the grounds. Together they went over to the village, and called on Tad Jones.

      Tad was waiting for them, and he straightway smuggled them into the house.

      "Aunt Nancy's expectin' Professor Jenks to call," he gleefully whispered. "I told her that I saw him, and he said he'd be here to-night, so she's frizzled and primped to receive him."

      "You'll get into a scrape," said Frank.

      "I don't care for that, if I can see some fun. Come right into the parlor, and we'll all hide. Aunt's up in her room, layin' on the finishin' touches."

      Into the parlor they slipped. A fire was burning in the old-fashioned open fireplace, and it was plain that Mrs. Cobb had "spruced things up" to receive company.

      "Two of us can git behind the organ in the corner here," said Tad. "The other feller can hide under the sofa."

      As the sofa was a long, old-fashioned affair, and any one hidden beneath it could command a view of the entire room, Frank decided to conceal himself there.

      This was barely settled when there came a sharp rap on the door.

      "Git under cover quick!" hissed Tad. "That must be one of 'em!"

      Tad and Hans made haste to squeeze in behind the organ, and Frank crept under the sofa.

      "Shimminy Gristmas!" muttered the Dutch lad, "uf id don'd peen britty tight blace here den I ton't know somedings."

      "It is all right," returned Tad, who had obtained a position where he could peer out. "Keep cool, and let your hair curl."

      Pretty soon Nancy fluttered downstairs, and then Frank heard the high-pitched voice of Professor Jenks in the hall. A moment later, the widow entered the parlor.

      "Oh, dear!" she simpered. "What a surprise this is, dear Mr. Jenks! Set right down on this chair close to the fire. You must be cold. Let me take your hat and coat."

      "I am rather cold," squeaked the professor, as he peeled off his coat, and allowed her to take it away with his hat. "It is a chilly night. You are cozy in here."

      The widow was wonderfully and artistically gotten up in a back-number silk dress, beneath which was an expansive hoop-skirt, while all around her face were cork-screw curls, meant to be very fetching. As she was somewhat deaf, although she never acknowledged it, she misunderstood the professor's last remark.

      "Oh, yes," she smiled, coming back and sitting quite close to Jenks, "no one can hear. We are quite alone."

      "Is that so?" gasped the professor, nervously, looking as if he contemplated flight. "I received your letter."

      "You believe I'm better! Why, my dear professor, I haven't bin sick. You must have been misinformed."

      "I didn't say that, Mrs. Cobb. I said that I received——"

      At this moment there came another sharp rap on the door, and Professor Jenks started as if he had been struck.

      "Somebody is knocking," he said.

      "Rocking?" smiled Nancy. "Then take the rocking-chair. I like to rock myself pritty well."

      "Somebody is knocking—knocking at the door!" cried the professor, in his high falsetto.

      "Oh, somebody knocking. I will see who it is. Mrs. Jones doesn't always hear 'em. I sometimes think she is ruther hard of hearing."

      As she fluttered out of the room, the professor gasped:

      "I'm in a perfect sweat already! I'd rather face a battery! I wonder if she will propose? It's leap year, and she may."

      Then he suddenly started to his feet, with an exclamation of surprise and anger, for he heard Professor Scotch's hoarse voice in the hall.

      "Confound it!" exclaimed Jenks. "What's brought him here to-night? I don't understand this."

      In came Nancy, and Professor Scotch was close behind her.

      "It's so good of you both to call!" gushed the widow, girlishly. "We'll have a real lovely little chat."

      Professor Scotch started back as he caught sight of his rival, and the

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