's room. Pike was sure
Badger was not in, and began to think that he might save himself bruises
and rough treatment by apparent acquiescence.

"I will go with you," he finally panted, "but under protest. And I shall
make you sorry for this outrage. You have no right to treat me thus."

Merriwell did not answer, but kept a hand on Pike's collar while he
conducted him up the stairs. To Pike's consternation, Buck Badger was in
the room and the door was open.

Before Pike could quite make up his mind to try again to escape,
Merriwell had bundled him through the doorway.

Badger scrambled up.

"There is your friend!" said Merriwell, pointing a finger accusingly at
Pike, who was too confused and humiliated to speak. "He disguised
himself that way, and attacked me awhile ago near my room, thinking I
was Bart Hodge. He has found out his mistake. He wanted to make Hodge
think that you had done the dirty work, so that you and Hodge would lock
horns the first time you met, and there would be trouble again all
around the camp. He is a contemptible and cowardly puppy, and I feel
that I have soiled my hands by touching him. But I wanted you to see him
in that rig, and know him as he is."

A fierce denial was on the lips of Donald Pike, but he had not the
courage to utter it. He saw that something more than denials would be
necessary to explain matters. The Westerner was as speechless as Pike,
and Merriwell turned away.

"I reckon we'll have a little explanation of this, Pike!" were the words
Merry heard as he reached the head of the stairs. They were spoken in an
awesome tone of voice, and came from Badger's lips.

Then the door closed with a bang, and he knew that the Kansan had barred
the way of Pike's escape from the room. The next morning Frank received
this note:

"MR. FRANK MERRIWELL: Pike and I had a settlement last night. He
tried to lie out of the thing, but I made him confess to the whole
truth. Then I kicked him down-stairs. We are not rooming together
any more whatever. BUCK BADGER."

CHAPTER IV.

AT THE HOME OF WINNIE LEE.

Frank Merriwell seemed the personification of spring as he approached
the residence of Fairfax Lee, the next afternoon. Spring is the time
when the wine of life flows warm through the veins of Nature. Its face
holds the bloom of youth and the smile of hope. Its heart is all aglow
with the joy of living. The golden summer is before it; and it has no
dead past