CHAPTER XLVIII
FACING THE BULLY
The events of that night created a sensation, forming a topic of general conversation.
Strangely enough, very few seemed to know who had struck Mason, and those who did, kept silent, not wishing to be drawn into the affair, being friendly toward Diamond.
Jack was not at all excited or alarmed over it, and he did not show concern when he was told over and over that the giant freshman would be sure to make good his threat, if possible.
"Let him try it!" said the lad from Virginia. "Next time I will finish him. I do not propose to fool with a beast like him."
From the campus a party of students went direct to Frank's room. Frank had the cane he had taken from Mason.
"It will make a fine ornament for my room," he laughed, as he placed it conspicuously over the mantel.
"Jove!" cried Danny Griswold. "You should be proud of it. You took it from Mason so quick that the fellow was dazed."
"That was the flittiest pring I ever saw – I mean the prettiest fling I ever saw," excitedly declared Rattleton. "How did you do it, Merry?"
"Oh, that was a simple trick," smiled Frank.
"It would have bumped the wind out of any other fellow, but it didn't seem to damage Mason much," observed Charlie Creighton.
"It was Diamond's little rap that damaged him," grunted Browning, who had again captured a couch.
"That was a corker!" broke forth Banny Robinson.
"A corker!" echoed Halliday. "I should guess yes! It dropped him in his tracks, and I saw the cops hammer him over the head with their clubs till they were tired without bringing him to his knees."
"I intended to lay him out when I struck him," said Jack, his eyes flashing. "I hit him on exactly the right spot."
"I'm sorry you did it, old man," said Creighton, soberly.
"I'm not!" returned Diamond, instantly.
"He is sure to make it hot for you."
"Let him try it! He was kicking Merry, and Merry was down. If I'd had an iron bar, I should have cracked him with it, after seeing him sink his toe into Frank's ribs."
Merriwell took a long step toward Jack and grasped his hand.
"Thank you, Diamond," he said, soberly and sincerely. "It is a true friend who stands by a man when he is down."
He glanced around at the others a moment after saying this, and the eyes of some of them failed to meet his. They remembered how, a short time before, Frank had been somewhat unpopular because of his refusal to play on the football team, and many of them had turned against him. They knew well enough that Merriwell had not forgotten it, and he thought of it when he spoke. Diamond was one of the few who had stood by him when he was most unpopular.
"The time has come," said Browning, slowly, "when this bully must be shown that he is not cock of the walk."
"Who'll show him?" cried several voices.
"Merriwell didn't hesitate about tackling him to-night – and got the best of him in a fair way. He struck a foul blow, and – "
"A terrible blow it was," confessed Frank, soberly. "I felt as if I had been kicked in the head by a mule."
"Oh, he'll kill a weak fellow with a fair blow of his fist!" exclaim Halliday.
"If we can't do anything else," said Browning, "we'll have to organize against him. If we were to do that, we could bring him to time after a while."
Danny Griswold lighted a cigarette, and perched himself on top of the table.
"If Merry will be our leader we may do something," he said.
"I am not in favor of the scheme," declared Frank.
All regarded him in surprise.
"You are not?" they cried.
"No."
"Why not?"
"It seems cowardly for several fellows to band together against one."
"But it's all the way he can be subdued. What can we do?"
"I am not certain it is the only way he can be subdued."
"Suggest another."
"I won't make any suggestions to-night, but I will think it over."
"We should organize for the protection of Diamond," suggested Creighton. "He is bound to find out Jack struck him the blow that knocked him out, and then – "
"Don't worry about me," broke in the Virginian. "I am not afraid of Hock Mason. He might kill me, but he'd never be able to make me squeal."
This was not boasting. Those who knew Jack Diamond best realized that he spoke nothing more than the simple truth. Brute force might conquer him physically, but his heart could not be conquered in such a manner.
Creighton was in earnest about forming some sort of a combination, offensive and defensive, against Mason, but Merriwell would not go into it, and the scheme failed to go into effect.
Some one suggested that Mason might be hurt more severely than they supposed, and Robinson went out to find out, if possible, about it. He finally returned, but brought no information.
"It would be a good thing if he couldn't get into bed for a day or two," said Halliday; "but you'll see him about as well as ever to-morrow."
Ben was right. Mason came forth to chapel in the morning, and, from his appearance, no one could have told that he had been knocked out in such manner the night before.
Straightway the giant freshman set about trying to discover just who it was that struck him, but those he questioned did not know, or lied by saying they did not know.
Mason grew more and more furious as time progressed and he failed to learn what he desired. He swore that he would find out before night, and the fellow should suffer.
At noon a crowd gathered at the fence and talked the matter over. Charlie Creighton was there, and again he was in favor of organizing against the freshmen.
While they were talking, Mason was seen approaching.
"Here he comes!" was the general exclamation.
"And he's out for blood!" declared Creighton. "His manner shows that. There is going to be trouble."
Before reaching the fence, Mason encountered Danny Griswold. Instantly he collared the little fellow.
"Griswold," he said, "I know that you know who struck me last night. If you don't tell, I'm going to give you the worst drubbing you ever received."
Danny shrank away, saying:
"I didn't see the fellow hit you."
"But you know who did it. You can't deny that. Who was it?"
"I can't tell."
Mason raised his heavy fist.
"Tell, or I'll break your pretty little nose!" he grated.
There was a step near at hand, and a calm voice said:
"Drop it, Mason! You should be ashamed to bully a man smaller than yourself. Don't dare to strike him!"
Hock looked around in astonishment.
Frank Merriwell was close at hand, coolly standing there, with his hands thrust into his pockets.
"Hey?" cried Mason, in surprise.
"You heard what I said, freshman," spoke Frank, as coolly as ever.
There was a stir at the fence, for the students there saw all and heard all.
"Jingoes! Merriwell has a nerve!" gasped one.
"Mason will thump him, sure!" said another.
"If he does – "
"Hark!"
"Yes, I heard what you said," flung back the bully; "but what you say chops no frost. If I want to thump this chap I'll thump him, and twenty fellows like you can't stop me."
"You overestimate your ability, freshman," said Frank, and his coolness was most exasperating. "If you thump that chap, one fellow will thump you."
"Jee whiz!" palpitated one of the students at the fence, "Now he's in for it!"
"There'll be gore spilled!" muttered Creighton.
"I'm sorry for Merriwell!" said another.
"Eh?" gurgled Hock Mason, more astonished than ever. "Is that a fact?"
"That is."
"Well, I'm going to thump him!"
Again he lifted his fist, and Danny Griswold cowered before it.
"Stop, Mason!" cried Frank, his voice hard and cold. "Strike him, and I'll give you a mark to remember me by!"
"Ho, ho!" sneered Mason, and he smashed Griswold in the face.
The moment the bully struck the little fellow, he released his collar and whirled toward Frank.
Merriwell kept his word.
Crack – Frank's fist struck fairly on Hock Mason's left eye, and the big bully was knocked down in a second.
The witnesses gasped with astonishment.
With a roar of rage, Mason leaped to his feet and came at Merriwell, somewhat blinded and dazed, but raging like a mad bull.
With the utmost ease Frank avoided the big fellow, and then he struck Mason again.
The second blow did not knock the giant down, but it stopped him a moment, and the blood began to run down his face.
Frank's fist had cut a long gash over the bully's right eye, and the blood quickly began to blind Hock, for already his left eye was swelling swiftly, showing it might be entirely closed in a few moments.
Mason wiped away the blood with his coat sleeve, and went at Frank with another rush.
Merriwell dodged, thrust out his foot, and tripped the freshman, sending him to the ground with a thud.
Over by the fence a little party witnessed all this with astonishment unspeakable.
Was this Mason, the freshman bully, who was being handled in such a manner by Merriwell? Was this the man who had knocked out four New Haven cops?
Mason had struck at Frank savagely enough to lay him out, but Merriwell easily dodged the blow.
Now the bully got upon his feet the second time. Blood was streaming down his face, and he was fast going blind. He looked around for Merriwell, but saw him dimly and indistinctly.
"Oh, hang you!" he cried. "You took me by surprise, and I can't see you now. If I could get hold of you – "
"But you can't do it, you know," said Frank, cheerfully, as he skipped out of the reach of his enemy's long arms.
Mason whirled around dizzily. He began to realize that it would be foolish to attempt to get the best of Merriwell then.
"Oh, I'll fix you for this – I will!" he grated.
"You think you will, but you won't," was the calm reply. "I shall be on the watch for you, and this is but a taste of what you'll get the next time you go up against me. Your days as a bully around here are over. I told you I would mark you, and I have. Whenever you look in a mirror for some time to come you will see something to remember me by."
"Whenever I look in a mirror for some time to come I shall remember you, and I'll repeat my vow to make you regret the day you ever saw me. Next time we meet to fight, I'll hammer you within an inch of your life!"
Then, holding a blood-stained handkerchief to his bleeding eye, he turned and hastened away.
CHAPTER XLIX
TO THE RESCUE
Danny Griswold danced and crowed with delight.
"Oh, scissors!" cried the little fellow. "I don't mind the crack he gave me a bit. It was worth it to see him get done up like that. And it was done so quick!"
The fellows at the fence rushed forward and gathered around Merriwell.
"Never touched you at all, did he?" asked Creighton.
"Didn't come within a hundred miles of me," smiled Frank.
Then they got him by the hand, shook it, congratulated him, complimented him, expressed their wonder, and some of them almost seemed to doubt if they had actually seen Hock Mason done up in less than two minutes.
"Quickest job on record," declared Silas Blossom. "Biff – biff – it was over. Didn't suppose he could be licked like that."
"He wasn't licked," said Frank. "It is a mistake to think that. I took particular pains to give him the first soaker in the left eye, and that eye was closing up on him so he couldn't see out of it very well. Then I let him have the next one on the right eye, and skinned my knuckles, see? Those knuckles cut him over the eye, and he bled as if he had been stabbed. The blood got into his eye, and he was more than half blind. That was what stopped him, and I hoped all the time that I might do it, for I will confess that I have no desire to receive one of his prize-fighter thumps. I was lucky to do the trick just as I planned it."
"And you had a nerve to stand up to him at all," said Deacon Dunning. "Especially here on the campus at this time of day, when it would mean something serious if the faculty knew of the fight."
"That was another thing I was thinking about," said Frank. "I wanted to end the scrap as soon as possible, so we'd not be seen at it by anybody who'd make trouble for us. Hope it won't kick up a muss and get us hauled over the irons."
They were astounded by Merriwell's coolness. He did not seem in the least ruffled by his encounter with the "bad man" of the freshman class, and was not particularly elated by his easy victory. He seemed to take it as a matter of course – a thing he had known would end just as it did.
It was not long before every freshman and junior knew what had happened, but all alike were slow to believe it possible. Frank Merriwell, single-handed, had got the best of Hock Mason – no, no, that could not be true!
The most of them wished to believe it, but could not at first. Mason was not popular among the freshmen, although he was their leader. He had bullied them too much, and he had many secret enemies, who pretended to his face that they were his friends.
The eyewitnesses of the encounter were forced to tell the story over and over till they were tired. Every one seemed to desire to know to the minutest particular just how Merriwell had gone to work to do the trick.
Some said it was pure accident, while others declared Hock Mason could not be knocked out by an accident. The latter were inclined to give Frank credit for all he had done, but the most of them prophesied that Mason would kill Merriwell as soon as his eyes were in condition to allow him to see properly.
Diamond had not seen the encounter, a fact which he bemoaned very much.
"Oh, Christopher!" he cried. "It was just my luck not to be around, and I'd given ten dollars to see it."
Frank told him how Danny had refused to divulge the knowledge Mason had desired.
"That shows little Gris has sand," said Jack. "But I'm sorry he didn't speak right up and tell Mason who it was. I don't want anybody to get thumped for keeping my secrets."
"It's all right. I don't think Mason slugged him hard. Anyway, he only made a sore place on Danny's cheek bone."
"I am going to take pains to let Mason know who it was thumped him with the cane. You're not going to fight him alone, Merry."
But that did not please Frank at all.
"You're going to do nothing of the sort, Diamond," he promptly declared. "The fight is on between Mason and Merriwell now, and you will keep out of it. I haven't made any talk about it, but it's my object to subdue this fellow, if possible, so there will be no further trouble with him."
"You may need help."
"I think not. It will be better for one man to do the job, as that will humiliate him, while he is such a bull-headed chump that he would never submit till he was killed if there was a party against him."
Diamond seemed to feel sorry that he could not get into it somehow. He even accused Frank of crowding him out. He had formed such a strong hatred for Mason that he felt as if it would be the greatest satisfaction of his life to do something to humble and crush the fellow.
But Frank knew Jack well enough to be sure it would not do for the hot-blooded Virginian to be deeply mixed in the affair, as he would not hesitate at anything in order to get the best of the freshman he hated.
Diamond's soul rose up in scorn and contempt for a brutal fellow like Mason. He actually felt that it would be a desirable thing to call Mason out and shoot him in a duel.
Merriwell's popularity rose to the flood when it was known that he had not hesitated to face the freshman bully in defense of Danny Griswold, and had got the best of the encounter. Every one congratulated Frank, and shook hands with him till he was tired of it all, and felt like keeping out of sight in his room.
But he knew it would not do to keep close in his room, for then it would be said that, although he had faced Mason once, he was afraid of the vengeance of the infuriated bully.
Frank went out more than had been his habit for some time. He had been devoting himself with unusual closeness to his studies, his main object being to stand so well in the spring that there would be no drawback about going onto the baseball team.
Mason kept close in his room, had a doctor, and made the excuse that he had inflammation of the eyes so he could not appear at recitations and found it impossible to study.
To those who knew all about it, the bully's excuse provided great amusement.
Three evenings after the encounter a jolly party gathered in Traeger's. Ale was freely consumed, stories told and jokes sprung.
Frank Merriwell was one of the party, and, as usual, he drank nothing but "soft stuff." Under no circumstances could he be induced to take a drink of liquor.
Frank's temperance principles were so well known that it was seldom any one urged him to drink anything. Occasionally they would jolly him, and he was often spoken of as the "Worthy Chief of the Good Templars." He did not mind this, however, and he often said that, as he never drank anything but raw alcohol of the rankest kind, and he couldn't get that at the places he patronized, he refused to take anything at all.
But he could be as jolly as any of the rest, and his stories and songs always "took." He was the life of any party, and, naturally, his society was much sought.
While the party was making merry in Traeger's, Dismal Jones wandered in. He paused and regarded them sadly, then said:
"Feasting, song and merriment within; cold, bitterness and misery without."
"Without what?" chirped Danny Griswold.
"Without yonder portal," solemnly returned Jones. "As I approached this gilded snare of Satan, I chanced to behold one who hath lately removed from one eye a beef-steak poultice, and whose other eye is in the neighborhood of several strips of plaster."
"Mason?" cried several.
"Verily thou hast named him," bowed Dismal. "He stood there shivering in the bitter cold, while about him gathered his wretched followers. It was a sad and heart-rending sight. I was touched – no, I mean I was afraid I would be touched, and I hastened hither to seek something that would drive from me memory that sad spectacle. Hot toddy, please."
"Mason?" exclaimed Diamond. "I wonder why the fellow is hanging around here?"
"Looking for Merry, perhaps," laughed Paul Pierson.
"He wants to look out, or he will get merry thunder," laughed Lewis Little.
"He got that the last time," said Andy Emery.
"Boys," said Danny Griswold, with sudden seriousness, "I believe there is something in the air."
"What?" asked several.
"Dust," chuckled Danny. "There's a high wind to-night."
"Hit him quick!" cried Halliday. "Hit him hard!"
"A-haw! a-haw! a-haw!" laughed Joe Gamp, a big, hulking fellow from New Hampshire. "Darned if that little runt ain't alwus doin' that. A-haw! a-haw! a-haw!"
Gamp had a laugh that was infectious. He seldom burst into a hearty roar that every one in hearing did not roar also. On this occasion Dismal Jones was the only man who did not join in the laughter. Dismal sipped his hot toddy, and looked sad and reproachful.
Mason was forgotten. Jokes and stories followed. Merriwell sang a song. The party showed no signs of breaking up, and Frank decided that he must get some sleep, so he reluctantly bade them good-night.
"I'm going along," said Rattleton, rising.
"Don't want us all to go to protect you from Mason and his gang, do you?" asked Puss Parker.
"I think not," smiled Frank. "I am not afraid of Mason himself, and I hardly think he'll call on any of his friends to help him lick me. Good-night, fellows."
"Good-night!"
"Good-night, Merry!"
"So long, old man!"
"Good luck, Frank!"
Any one hearing them bid him good-night would have known he was a very popular fellow. Every man there joined in the general chorus, and Frank went out laughing, his heart warm within his bosom.
"A jolly lot of fellows, Rattles," he said, "and white men, every one of them."
"Oh, they are jolly enough," admitted Harry; "but I hope you have not forgotten that almost every one of them turned his back on you when they fancied you were afraid of Rob Marline and did not dare play on the football team."
"It is best to forget such things as that," returned Frank. "It seemed to all of them that I showed the white feather, and, not knowing me as well as they might, they were disgusted. It also seemed that I was willing to let Yale go on the field with a weak team when it might be strengthened if I would play. Yale men are loyal to old Eli. They will forgive a personal affront quicker than anything that looks like cowardice or treachery toward Yale."
"Oh, well, if that's the way you look at it, I have nothing to say."