ous.

"Why should you hate Merriwell?" he asked.

"Because he kicked me," was the fierce reply.

"He kicked you? Then you are the man he fired out of the boathouse? I
heard about that little affair."

"I am the man."

"You should have known better than to try to bribe Merriwell to throw
any sort of game or race to Harvard. That chap is so honest that he has
wings sprouting under his clothes. He said you pushed a thousand dollars
at him?"

"I did--I put it into his hand."

"And he flung it into your face?"

"Yes, curse him! Then he threw me out of the window!"

"Well, you do seem to have a reason for disliking him. What would you do
to him if you got a good chance?"

"Ask me what I wouldn't do! All I want is the chance!"

"Can you keep your mouth closed?"

"You bet your dust! I never peach!"

"Then you may be just the kind of a man I am looking for. I want
somebody with nerve. The trouble with the fellows in college who hate
Merriwell is that they do not dare butt up against him. They are afraid
of him."

"Well, I'm not afraid of any man living, let alone a mere boy. He's
nothing but a tenderfoot! Waugh!"

"Hear them shouting over him!" muttered Thornton. "See! They have lifted
him on their shoulders! One would think he alone won the race to-day!"

Then Frank was heard to make the brief speech which elicited such hearty
applause.

"It is sickening!" growled Flemming, pale with jealous rage.

"It is," nodded the stranger. "It makes me want to give him back the
kick he gave me!"

"If you stick to me, I promise you that you shall have a good
opportunity," said Flemming.

"You may bet your rocks that I'll tie to you, pard," assured the
unknown. "I'll help you to get square, and you can help me. Frank
Merriwell will have to keep his eyes open if he dodges us both."

CHAPTER XXII.

THE FIGHT ON THE TRAIN.

It happened that, as he was perched on the shoulders of his friends and
admirers, Frank Merriwell saw Flemming and Thornton in the further end
of the car.

Merriwell would not have given his enemies more than a passing glance,
but it occurred that he saw and recognized the man who was talking to
Flemming.

"It is the scoundrel who tried to bribe me!" muttered Frank, angrily.
"And he is with Flemming and Thornton! I fancy I smell a mouse."

Then he forced his friends to put him down, and, the moment he was on
his feet, he hastened along the aisle toward the end of the car, having
c