LITMIR.BIZ

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boy flushed.

      "That time is past," he said. "What do you want of me?"

      "It is my turn now. I want to have a word in private with you."

      Bart did not fancy this much. He knew Snell for exactly what the fellow was—a sneaking, revengeful rascal. The thought that he had ever had dealings with such a scamp made Bart's cheeks burn and caused him to regard himself with no little contempt.

      He did not care to be seen talking privately with Snell, and he glanced hastily around, to see if any one was watching them.

      Snell noted the look, and an angry light came into his eyes, which were somewhat too small and set so near together that they seemed crowding his nose between them.

      "Oh, you hesitate over it, do you!" he sneered. "That's like some fellows to go back on their old friends! You won't make anything by it in the end."

      "If you have anything to say to me, say it," commanded Hodge, sharply.

      "Come over here where the fellows can't see us from the windows," invited Snell, beckoning Bart to follow.

      But Hodge did not stir.

      "No, sir," he said, firmly. "If you have anything you want to say to me, say it right here."

      Snell did not like this. He came back slowly, casting a hasty, doubtful look up to the dormitory windows. After some hesitation, during which he kicked the gravel of the walk with his toe, he began:

      "There was a time when you didn't like Merriwell any better than the rest of us, and you have done things that would put you in a pretty bad corner, if they were known."

      Hodge's brows lowered in a scowl, and his nostrils dilated, like those of a wild creature that scents danger. He said nothing, but his steady, piercing gaze made Snell keep his eyes on the ground.

      "Of course I am not the kind of a fellow to blow anything of the sort," Wat went on, hurriedly. "I simply mentioned it by chance. You seem friendly with Merriwell now, and I thought you might have forgotten."

      "I wonder what the rascal is coming at?" thought Bart; but not a word did he speak aloud.

      "For the sake of old times, I thought—perhaps—you might do something for some of your old friends—I didn't know but you might. It can't harm Merriwell any in particular—he'll never miss it. It will be a lift for me, and I can make it an object for you."

      Snell was floundering, and the look on his face seemed to indicate that he was growing frightened and felt like taking to his heels.

      Of a sudden, Hodge became curious to know what the fellow had to say, and so he decided to try diplomacy.

      "I do not forget my friends," he said. "What is it you want of me, Snell?"

      That gave Wat a little courage.

      "Before I tell you, Hodge, I want to say that you will be well paid if you help out a little in this matter, and Merriwell can never know that you were in it. He'll never suspect you. You didn't have any scruples about doing something of the sort once on a time."

      "Well, what is it?" demanded Bart, impatiently. "Don't beat round the bush so much."

      "Oh, don't be in such a hurry!" fluttered Snell, nervously, far from feeling fully confident of Hodge. "There's money in this. It will be twenty-five dollars in your pocket if you do what I want you to. Are you with me?"

      "That depends on what you want me to do. Name it."

      "Well, Merriwell has something that doesn't rightfully belong to him. Understand that—it is not his by right. It belongs to a friend of mine, who wants me to recover his property."

      "Well?"

      "You can aid me, as you room with Merriwell."

      "Jupiter!" thought Bart. "I wonder if the mysterious ring is the piece of property Snell means?"

      It was with no little difficulty that Hodge held himself in check; but he did not wish Snell to become alarmed, and so he quietly asked:

      "What is this piece of property?"

      "It is something Merriwell wears every day. I suppose he takes it off occasionally. That would give you your chance. Mind you, it is not rightfully his, but it belongs to my friend, so there is no harm in taking it to restore it to its proper owner. In fact, that is a simple act of justice."

      "Why doesn't the rightful owner recover his property in the regular manner?"

      "That might prove difficult, or even impossible, as he would have trouble in establishing his claim, and Merriwell might conceal the property. It is not the value of this property that the owner cares so much for; he wants the property itself."

      There was no longer any doubt in Bart's mind; Snell was speaking of the ring. The man in black had resorted to another scheme to obtain possession of that ugly ornament.

      With the greatest difficulty, Hodge kept cool and placid, as he asked:

      "And you want me to steal this property?"

      "No, no, no! It would not be stealing it; it would be returning it to its proper owner. Can't you see?"

      "Well, if I am going to do this job, I must know what the property is."

      "It is the ring Merriwell wears when he is not in ranks—the twisted band, with a black stone set in it."

      "And you want me to obtain that ring and give it to you?"

      "Yes."

      "For which I am to receive twenty-five dollars?"

      "Yes. What is your answer?"

      "This is my answer!"

      Like a flash, Hodge struck out straight from the shoulder, and his fist caught Snell between the eyes.

      CHAPTER XXXII.

       SNELL'S HATRED.

       Table of Contents

      Smack!

      The blow sounded sharp and clear, and Snell quickly found himself stretched on the gravel walk. He looked up in a dazed way, to see Hodge standing near at hand, regarding him with withering scorn.

      "You'll pay dearly for this!" gasped Snell, lifting himself to his elbow and glaring at Bart.

      "All right," was the hot retort. "I am willing to pay for it. You may have taken me for a thief, but I rather think you have discovered your mistake."

      "You weren't so honest once on a time, not so very long——"

      "What's that?" cried Bart, taking a threatening step toward the fellow. "I was never a thief, no matter what my other failings may have been; and if you dare insinuate such a thing, I will ram the words down your throat!"

      "That's all right—that's all right!" muttered Wat, scrambling up and getting out of reach. "I will report this assault."

      "Report it, and be hanged! The fellows in this academy admire a tattler! You will have a very pleasant time if you report it!"

      "It was seen. Somebody will tell Professor Gunn."

      "Perhaps so; but it isn't best that you are the one."

      "I'll—I'll get even!"

      "Go ahead. I'd like the satisfaction of fighting you to a finish."

      "I will not fight with my fists," blustered Wat, trying to appear very fierce. "There are more deadly weapons."

      "Name any weapon you choose. I will be only too glad to meet you. I am a good pistol shot, and Professor Rhynas says I handle the foils fairly well."

      "Oh, you're a regular ruffian!" cried Snell, his chin beginning to quiver and his voice choking with anger that brought tears to his eyes. "I will not fight you in any way!

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