s. Yeou kinder stick for the sort that's been born in the
higher strata of life, as yeou call it. Ain't thar a hull lot of mighty
smart ones that come out of the lower strata somewhere?"

"Oh, I admit that most of the brainy women and most of the brainy men
come from the lower strata. Nevertheless, such women are not ladies."

"Begobs, ye make me tired!" cried Mulloy. "What you nade, Greg, is a
dhoctor to look afther your liver."

"Mebbe the best doctor," grinned Gallup, "would be a girl he'd fall in
love with and who'd fall in love with him. I guess she could cure him.
If he happened to run across the right one and she axed him to give up
his career and stop rampin' round over the country, I'll bet a good big
punkin he'd cave in right on the spot."

"You're wrong," denied Carker. "No matter how much I cared for a girl,
I could not give up my career. There was one once who asked me to give
it up. She married another man."

He smiled as he made the confession, but in his eyes there was a look
which told of the great sacrifice he had made.

"Mebbe you think you're doing a great work for humanity," observed
Ephraim; "but, by ginger! I kinder think that Frank Merriwell is doing a
greater work."

"What is he doing?"

"Haven't you heard 'bout it?"

"No. I haven't heard from Merriwell in the last year or more. The last I
knew of him he was accumulating a fortune in mining. Like other men in
these degenerate times, he had turned his great abilities to the
mercenary task of amassing wealth. I was sorry when I heard this, for I
had expected other things of him."

"Sorry, was ye?" snapped Ephraim.

"Sorry and disappointed," said Greg, shaking his head.

"Waal, now, you want to come right along with us to Bloomfield. We'll
show you what Frank Merriwell's doing with that money he's accumulated.
Ain't you ever heard 'bout his School of Athletic Development?"

"No."

"Waal, I guess that'll interest ye some, by jinks!"

"Tell me about it."

As clearly as he could, Ephraim explained the plan of Merry's new
school. Carker listened with a show of interest until the Vermonter had
finished.

"Well, I'm glad he's doing some good," said Greg. "Still, this is of
minor importance compared with the great work in which I'm engaged."

"You go to grass!" almost snarled Ephraim. "Great fiddlesticks! Why,
Frank is making real men of growing boys. He's making good, strong,
healthy men that kin go out and successfully fight their