meet him later--you'll have to," eagerly said Rupert
Reynolds, a fellow who made a pretension of being "sporty," and who was
a great admirer of gamecocks and prize-fighters, for which reason he
had grown very friendly with the slugger of the academy. "This affair
must be settled in the regular manner."

"I didn't suppose I'd have to fight the whole academy," came sulkily
from the bully. "If every sneak in school had somebody to step in and
fight his battles, things would soon undergo a change."

As he said this, he cast a contemptuous glance at Davis, who was
looking on, in a helpless way.

"You may fight or not, as you like," said Frank, serenely. "But you
know what I think of a bully who is too cowardly to tackle a fellow he
fears may be his match."

And then, unmindful that Bascomb made another move and was held back by
his friends, Frank turned his back and walked round the table to Davis.

"Come," he said, "we will go."

There was a murmur of applause when he turned away, with Davis at his
side.

Still Frank knew very well that he had taken an unpopular stand by
espousing the cause of a plebe who did not seem to have nerve enough to
stand up for his own rights, and he was breaking all precedent and
traditions by a show of friendliness for his own fag.

However, Frank was a lad who firmly believed in standing by the right,
no matter whether the cause were popular or not, and his sympathy was
invariably with "the under dog in the fight." He could not bear to see
the weak oppressed by the strong.

His generous heart had gone out to the lad who had been so tenderly and
delicately reared, and who declined to lie or fight because he had
promised his mother he would not do such things. Somehow Davis did not
seem at all like a "sissy-boy" to Merriwell, who believed the plebe had
a great deal of moral courage, if he were not physically brave. And
Frank had come to believe that moral courage is a higher qualification
than physical courage.

In this world there are two classes of heroes, and one class is likely
to be grievously misunderstood. First comes the physical hero, the
fellow who defiantly faces dangers that are sufficient to turn to ice
the blood of another, and yet may succumb to some simple temptation
that he knows will lead him into wrongdoing.

Then comes the moral hero, who resists the strongest temptations to do
wrong, who fights and conquers in many a silent battle with his
passions and de