m down. It was useless to try with such a set of lads.

Danny Griswold was astride the shoulders of Dismal Jones, who was the
only solemn-looking man in the car. Occasionally Jones would "break out"
in his peculiar camp-meeting revivalist's style and would deliver
fragments of a sermon on the frivolous things of the world. Each time he
was quickly suppressed, however.

Into the midst of this jolly crowd came a lad whose face was flushed and
whose eyes were gleaming strangely. His lips curled back over his set
teeth, and he seemed to quiver with a strange eagerness.

"Let me through!" he growled, forcing his way along. "There is a fellow
here I want to see."

There was something in his voice that caused them to give him room to
advance till he was standing directly in front of Frank Merriwell. Then
his hands clinched, and, as he tried to speak, he choked with passion,
so that words failed him.

A sudden hush came over the throng, for they saw that there was trouble
impending.

"It's Yates!"

Somebody muttered the words, and they seemed to break the spell that had
fallen on the enraged lad who was glaring at Frank.

"Yes, it is Yates!" he snarled. "I suppose all you fellows are Frank
Merriwell's chums, but that makes no difference to me."

He stopped a moment, but he did not take his eyes from Frank's face. He
seemed to be gathering himself for the supreme effort.

"Merriwell," he said, his voice shaking, "you are a sneak!"

Every one expected Frank would leap to his feet and strike Yates, but he
did nothing of the kind. The hot blood rushed to his face, and then
fled away again, leaving him cold and pale. About his firm jaws there
was a sudden hardening, and in turn he showed his teeth.

"Mr. Yates," he said, "you are not complimentary."

"I do not mean to be to such a fellow as you!" Yates shot back.

"You are insulting!"

"I am if the truth can be considered an insult."

"I demand an explanation."

"I do not propose to waste any breath in giving explanations to such as
you. You know why I say you are a sneak--you know you are a sneak!"

Frank Merriwell laughed. That laugh was a warning that he was dangerous.
Diamond knew it; Rattleton knew it. They held themselves ready to make
room when Frank Merriwell saw fit to act.

"You put yourself in a bad light by calling a man a sneak and then
refusing to tell why you call him that," said Frank.

Yates did not know Merriwell very well and that laugh had