LITMIR.BIZ

      CHAPTER XXXI.

       WHAT DITSON WANTED.

       Table of Contents

      On the following day the great topic of conversation for the class of 'Umpty-eight was the recent ball game. Wherever the freshmen gathered they discussed the game and the work of Gordon and Merriwell.

      Gordon was a free-and-easy sort of fellow, and he had his friends and admirers, some of whom were set in their belief that he was far superior to Merriwell as a pitcher.

      Roland Ditson attempted to argue on two or three occasions in favor of Gordon, but nobody paid attention to what he said, for it was known that he had tried by every possible means to injure Merriwell and had been exposed in a contemptible piece of treachery, so that no one cared to be known as his friend and associate.

      Whenever Ditson would approach a group of lads and try to get in a few words he would be listened to in stony silence for some moments, and then the entire crowd would turn and walk away, without replying to his remarks or speaking to him at all.

      This would have driven a fellow less sensitive than Ditson to abandon all hope of going through Yale. Of course it cut Ditson, but he would grind his teeth and mutter:

      "Merriwell is to blame for it all, curse him! I won't let him triumph! The time will come when I'll get square with him! I'll have to stay here in order to get square, and stay here I will, no matter how I am treated."

      Since his duplicity had been made known and his classmates had turned against him Ditson had taken to grinding in a fierce manner, and as a result he had made good progress in his studies. He was determined to stand ahead of Merriwell in that line, at least, and it really seemed that he might succeed, unless Frank gave more time to his studies and less to athletics.

      This was not easy for a fellow in Merriwell's position and with his ardent love for all sorts of manly sports to do. He gave all the time he could to studies without becoming a greasy grind, but that was not as much as he would have liked.

      To Ditson's disappointment and chagrin Merriwell seemed quite unaware that his enemy stood ahead of him in his classes. Frank seemed to have quite forgotten that such a person as Roll Ditson existed.

      Ditson was an outcast. The fellow with whom he had roomed had left him shortly after his treachery was made public, and he was forced to room alone, as he could get no one to come in with him.

      Roll did not mind this so much, however. He pretended that he was far more exclusive than the average freshman, and he tried to imitate the ways of the juniors and seniors, some of whom had swell apartments.

      Ditson's parents were wealthy, and they furnished him with plenty of loose change, so that he could cut quite a dash. He had fancied that his money would buy plenty of friends for him. At first, before his real character was known, he had picked up quite a following, but he posed as a superior, which made him disliked by the very ones who helped him spend his money.

      He had hoped to be a leader at Yale, but, to his dismay, he found that he did not cut much of a figure after all, and Frank Merriwell, a fellow who never drank or smoked, was far more popular. Then it was that Ditson conceived a plot to bring Merriwell into ridicule and at the same time to get in with the enemies of the freshmen—the sophomores—himself.

      At last he had learned that at Yale a man is not judged so much by the money he spends and the wealth of his parents as by his own manly qualities.

      But Ditson was a sneak by nature, and he could not get over it. If he started out to accomplish anything in a square way, he was likely to fancy that it could be done with less trouble in a crooked manner, and his natural instinct would switch him off from the course he should have followed.

      He was not at all fond of Walter Gordon, but he liked him better than he did Merriwell, and it was gall and wormwood for him when he heard how Merriwell had replaced Gordon in the box at Cambridge and had pitched a marvelous game for three innings.

      "Oh, it's just that fellow's luck!" Roll muttered to himself. "He seems to be lucky in everything he does. The next thing I'll hear is that he is going to pitch on the 'Varsity team."

      He little thought that this was true, but it proved to be. That very day he heard some sophomores talking on the campus, and he lingered near enough to catch their words.

      "Is it actually true, Parker, that Pierson has publicly stated that Merriwell is fast enough for the Varsity nine?" asked Tad Horner.

      "That's what it is," nodded Puss Parker, "and I don't know but Pierson is right. I am inclined to think so."

      "Rot!" exclaimed Evan Hartwick, sharply. "I don't take stock in anything of the sort. Merriwell may make a pitcher some day, but he is raw. Why, he would get his eye batted out if he were to go up against Harvard on the regular team."

      "Oh, I don't know about that," said Andy Emery. "He is pretty smooth people. Is there anybody knows Pierson made such an observation concerning him?"

      "Yes, there is," answered Parker.

      "Who knows it?"

      "I do."

      "Did you hear him?"

      "I did."

      "That settles it."

      "Yes, that settles it!" grated Roland Ditson as he walked away. "Parker didn't lie, and Pierson has intimated that Merriwell may be given a trial on the Varsity nine. If he is given a trial it will be his luck to succeed. He must not be given a trial. How can that be prevented?"

      Then Ditson set himself to devise some scheme to prevent Frank from obtaining a trial on the regular nine. It was not an easy thing to think of a plan that would not involve himself in some way, and he felt that it must never be known that he had anything to do with such a plot.

      That night Ditson might have been seen entering a certain saloon in New Haven, calling one of the barkeepers aside, and holding a brief whispered conversation with him.

      "Is Professor Kelley in?" asked Roll.

      "He is, sir," replied the barkeeper. "Do you wish to see him?"

      "Well—ahem!—yes, if he is alone."

      "I think he is alone. I do not think any of his pupils are with him at present, sir."

      "Will you be kind enough to see?" asked Ditson. "This is a personal matter—something I want kept quiet."

      The barkeeper disappeared into a back room, was gone a few minutes, and then returned and said:

      "The professor is quite alone. Will you go up, sir?"

      "Y-e-s," said Roll, glancing around, and then motioning for the barkeeper to lead the way.

      He was taken into a back room and shown a flight of stairs.

      "Knock at the door at the head of the flight," instructed the barkeeper, and after giving the man some money Ditson went up the stairs.

      "Come in!" called a harsh voice when he knocked at the door.

      Ditson found Kelley sitting with his feet on a table, while he smoked a strong-smelling cigar. There were illustrated sporting papers on the table, crumpled and ragged.

      "Well, young feller, watcher want?" demanded the man, withont removing his feet from the table or his hat from his head.

      Ditson closed the door. He was

Скачать книгу