Frank Merriwell's Return to Yale Part 75

Rob Marline laughed sarcastically, but did not say anything. Rattleton flushed with anger, but Merriwell did not seem to notice it.

Harry went on with his story, telling of their adventures, and the party shouted with laughter when he related the clothesline incident.

The fellows were gathering about Merriwell, and Marline found that he was being deserted, which added to his bitterness. He saw the boys listening to the story of Merriwell's attack on the officer and the trick with the clothesline, and the soul of the boy from the South was filled with bitterness.

"He's cutting ice with the gang again," thought Marline. "That must be stopped."

But how could he stop it? He thought of calling to those who had been with him before Merriwell came in, and asking them to have another drink. Then it seemed that he would humiliate himself by doing so, for he would cause everybody to notice how he had been abandoned. So he ordered another drink for himself, and drank it sullenly.

Every time the boys laughed Marline grated his teeth. Things had not gone right with him that night, and he was in an ugly mood. He had called to see Inza Burrage, and had attempted to make himself "solid"

with her. In the course of his conversation he had made some disparaging remark about Frank Merriwell.

That remark was like a spark of fire in a keg of powder. In a moment Inza flared up and exploded. She told him Frank Merriwell was a gentleman. She told him Frank Merriwell was too much of a man of honor to malign an enemy behind his back. She showed deep scorn and contempt, and Marline left the house crestfallen and raging with anger.

He had been touched on a tender spot. To have any one insinuate that Frank Merriwell was more honorable than he, was like stabbing him to the heart.

The whiskey made Marline desperate. Little did he know that the boy he hated was in a most reckless mood. Had he known it, he would not have cared. There was not a drop of cowardly blood in Marline's body. He longed for an encounter with Merriwell.

At length, when he could stand it no longer, he arose to his feet. Some one was complimenting Merriwell on his nerve. Marline had not tasted the last gla.s.s of whiskey brought him. He took it in his hand, made two steps toward Frank, and flung the stuff full into Merry's face!

"If Mr. Merriwell has so much nerve, let him resent that!" rang out the hoa.r.s.e voice of the boy from South Carolina. "We'll see how much nerve he has!"

Frank took out a handkerchief and slowly wiped the liquid from his face.

He was very pale, and his eyes gleamed with a glare that his best friends had never seen in them before. But he laughed, and those who knew him best shuddered at that laugh.

"Mr. Marline," he said, his voice calm and modulated, "will you be kind enough to name your friend?"

Marline looked around. Sport Harris was at his side in a moment.

"I'll serve you!" Sport eagerly whispered.

Marline felt that almost any one was preferable to Harris, but he saw the others had drawn away. Harris seemed to be the only one with nerve enough to stand by him. He felt forced to accept Sport.

"Mr. Harris is my man," he said.

Frank bowed gracefully.

"Mr. Diamond will wait on him."

A gleam of exultation came into Marline's face, for he felt that he had driven Merriwell to the wall at last.

Frank and Jack immediately withdrew from Morey's, and, later, the Virginian sought Harris in his room.

Frank awaited Diamond's return. He came back in about an hour

"To-morrow, at sunrise," he said.

CHAPTER XLV.

THE DUEL.

"Are you ready, gentlemen?"

The sun was just peeping over the horizon.

Beyond the city limits, near a strip of timber far down the Sound, five persons had met.

Two of them were Frank Merriwell and Robert Marline, who were to fight a deadly duel there that beautiful morning.

Two more were their seconds, Jack Diamond and Sport Harris.

The fifth was a young collegian named Morton, who was studying medicine and surgery. He had brought along a case of instruments, although he was not certain this was to be a duel in deadly earnest.

Merriwell and Marline, despite the fact that the morning air was keen and cold, had stripped off their coats and vests and were in their s.h.i.+rt sleeves.

Now they stood facing each other, weapons in hand.

Frank's face was calm and confident, as if he had not the least doubt concerning the outcome of the affair. His nerves were under admirable control. He was a trifle paler than usual.

Marline, on the other hand, was flushed and nervous. He had taken several drinks of whiskey to brace him, and Merriwell's calm confidence was something he could not understand. At that moment, Frank seemed like the duelist and Marline like the novice.

The sun shot a single lance of light across the world, and then Diamond, who had been chosen to give the signal, spoke the word that set the rivals at each other.

Clas.h.!.+ clas.h.!.+ clas.h.!.+ The bright blades clanged sharply on the morning air. The suns.h.i.+ne glittered coldly on their polished lengths.

At first the work was of a very scientific order, for each man seemed feeling of the other to discover just how much skill he possessed.

Marline was more than ever astonished, for he had scarcely fancied Frank could be an expert with such a weapon. Now, however, he saw by the manner in which Frank handled himself, by his every move, that he was a skillful swordsman.

The boy from the South attempted to force the fighting. The whiskey went to his head, and he fought savagely, his teeth set and his eyes gleaming. Deadly determination was in his every move. The seconds and the surgeon watched breathlessly.

Suddenly there was a cry. By a twisting movement of his wrist, Frank had disarmed his enemy, sending Marline's blade spinning into the air.

The sword fell with a clang on the frozen ground at Rob's feet, and he instantly s.n.a.t.c.hed it up. Then he came at Frank with the fury of one driven mad.

Merriwell was forced to give ground before the fierce onslaught of his enemy. He knew well enough that Marline was exceedingly dangerous, for he had flung discretion to the winds and was exposing himself in all ways by his fierce desire to get at Frank.

Merriwell did not wish to wound Marline, but hoped to humble him.

However, it began to look as if Frank would be forced to do his best in self-defense.

He had remarkable control of himself, and watched his chance. It came in a short time, and again he twisted the sword from Marline's hand.

Marline fell back before Merriwell's half-lifted sword.