tonishing manner."

"What have you against Merriwell, Thornton?" asked Parker. "I didn't
know you were so down on him. You both played on the football team last
fall."

"And Merriwell made a record for himself by winning the game for Yale,"
said Andy Emery.

Thornton laughed sneeringly, showing his perfect white teeth.

"Merriwell is always making a record for himself at something," he
returned. "I'd rather have his luck than be born rich. If any other
fellow on the team had obtained the ball at that particular moment, he
could have gone through Princeton's line as well as Merriwell did, for
Yale's interference was simply marvelous, and a clear road was given the
runner."

Emery shook his head.

"I think your memory is slightly at fault, old man," he said. "I am sure
Merriwell bowled over at least one man, and dodged one or two others,
besides going down the field like a wild engine, with Princeton's
fastest runner at his heels and unable to tackle him. Oh, it is not all
luck with Merriwell, Thornton, as you would acknowledge, if you were not
prejudiced."

"You talk as if you are stuck on the fellow!" snarled Tom, in his most
cutting manner.

"But you know I am not. I have held away--have had nothing to do with
him."

"And that is the reason why I invited you down here to-night."

"So? Well, I thought there was something more in the wind than a simple
discussion of athletics. What's up?"

"Don't be in a hurry. We'll come to that presently. Have another drink
all around. This is on me. Push the button, Horner. I want to order more
fizz."

"This is too much!" sighed Tad, as he pressed the button that
communicated with an electric bell at the bar. "If we do not let up,
we'll be in rocky shape in the morning."

The waiter appeared, and the wine was ordered. When the waiter went out,
after serving the order, he left the door communicating with the next
room standing open.

"Gentlemen," cried Thornton, lifting his glass of sparkling "fizz,"
"here's to a break in Merriwell's luck. May it come soon."

All drank.

"I can't quite agree with Thornton that it is all luck," said Puss
Parker, lowering his half-emptied glass. "It is not luck that enables
Merriwell to pitch on the ball team."

"Oh, I don't know!" exclaimed Tom. "If Heffiner's arm had not been in
bad condition, Merriwell would not have obtained the opportunity when he
did. If he had not obtained it then, he might not have obtained it at
all, for