, for the winter seems to belong to the year that has gone.

A handsomer specimen of young manhood could not have been found. The
flowering spray in his buttonhole seemed part of the jaunty new suit
which so became him. He was clean-looking and energetically wholesome.
From the crown of his head to the soles of his feet he was nattily neat,
yet he was as far from being dudish in appearance as it is possible for
one to be. He looked to be what he was--strong, and lithe-limbed, almost
physically perfect, with a handsome, intelligent face, hopeful,
courageous heart, and active brain.

Yet many things had come to trouble him in the past twenty-four hours,
even though his bright face showed not a trace of their annoying effect.
Chief of these things, of course, was the defection of Bart Hodge. Hodge
had gone away stubbornly angry, and Merriwell had not seen him since the
moment of parting.

Every member of the "flock" was hot against Hodge, and had not hesitated
to speak plainly. Hodge's rebellious spirit had rallied them round
Merriwell as one man. Browning and Diamond had even argued that he ought
not to be longer recognized as a member of Merriwell's set. The only one
who had ventured to stand up for him, aside from Merriwell himself, was
Harry Rattleton. Frank had defended him to the last, insisting that
allowances should be made for the peculiarities of Bart's disposition,
and asserting that he would be found all right in the end.

Frank was thinking of all this as he drew near the home of Winnie Lee.
His intention was to call on Inza and have a talk with her about the
'Varsity boat-races at New London in June, for Inza was the "mascot" of
the Yale crew that was to meet Harvard at New London. In addition, he
expected to inform her and her friends of the arrangements made for the
ball-game with Hartford on Saturday.

He looked about him after he had tripped lightly up the steps and rang
the bell. The Lee home was in a fashionable and exclusive part of New
Haven, and the spacious grounds were beginning to take on beauty and
color under the reviving influences of spring. A fountain, shot through
with rainbow hues, was spraying a marble sprite, while a rheumatic
gardener troweled round the rim of a loamy flower-bed.

Winnie, who had observed Merriwell's approach, came to the door herself
to admit him.

"Oh, you didn't come to see me?" she asked, when he inquired for Inza.

"That would be pleasant enough, but it woul