That dog had received mortal injuries in a
fight, and now Diamond had another dog.

"Isn't he a beauty!" cried Jack, as he displayed the ugly-looking
brute. "Look at that head and those jaws! He comes from a line of
gladiators."

"What do you call him, Diamond?" asked Ben Halliday.

"Prince."

"Put not thy trust in princes," croaked Dismal Jones.

"Is he kind?" asked Bandy Robinson.

"Oh, he has a sunny disposition," assured Jack, smiling.

"A sunny disposition," chirped Griswold, from the top of the table, upon
which he had climbed so that he might be out of the way. "By that I
presume that you mean he will make it hot for any other dog he may
tackle."

"Hold on, Danny, old man!" cried Jack, reprovingly. "Haven't I treated
you right?"

"Not lately, but if you've got any beer in the coop you can."

"That gives me a pain!" cried Robinson.

"You must have been eating window glass," chuckled Griswold. "That's how
you happen to feel the pane."

"You ramed little bunt--I mean you blamed little runt!" exclaimed
Rattleton, catching Danny by the neck. "If you keep up this reckless
punning you'll receive a check some day."

"I hope so," was the instant retort. "I'm broke, and I sent to the
governor for one to-day."

"Let him alone, Harry," advised Merriwell, laughing. "You simply make
him worse by talking to him."

"That's the only thing I have against Griswold," declared Jack. "He will
pun in the most reckless manner at all times. Some of his jokes are not
what they are cracked up to be."

"Like the eggs we used to get down at Mrs. Harrington's when we were
freshmen," grinned Griswold.

"Even the vilest sinner may repent and be forgiven," came solemnly from
Dismal Jones. "There's a faint ray of hope for Griswold."

"But it's mighty dim," declared Robinson.

Once more attention was given to Jack's dog, and Diamond pointed out the
animal's fine features.

"When are dogs at their best?" asked Halliday, seriously.

"In winter," Griswold instantly put in. "There are no flies on them
then."

"Smother him!" howled Robinson, wildly.

"Smother time," cackled Danny, as he slipped off the table and dodged
around a chair to get out of reach.

Halliday caught up a pair of scissors and pretended to sharpen them,
looking at Griswold as if he meant to shed his gore.

"What are you going to do?" asked Danny. "Going into the
scissors-grinding business? It's great when things are dull."

It was plain that Dann