Have I? How?"

Harry looked around and saw Merriwell preparing to go into the corner
behind the screen. Then Rattleton made a few violent gestures, which
plainly told his roommate to refrain.

Frank looked astonished. What could Harry be up to that he appeared so
excited? He was motioning for Frank to come forward cautiously and join
him.

Now, Merriwell did not believe in playing the eavesdropper on any one,
but he fancied Harry saw something he wished to show him, so he went
forward lightly, placed another chair, got upon it, and looked over the
screen.

In the meantime Ditson was saying:

"Yes, you've helped me. You know Merriwell is coaching the freshman
crew--or has been--for the race to-morrow. Well, I don't let any chance
go to get a jab at him."

"I don't see what that has to do with my helping you," mumbled Gordon,
vainly trying to light a cigarette with a broken match on which no
brimstone was left.

"Course yer don't," laughed Ditson, who was almost as full as his
companion. "This isn't the first time we have been out together, eh, old
boy?"

"No."

"Only we had to be quiet about it when you were on the crew--or when you
thought you were on it."

"That's right."

"We have been pretty full once or twice."

"I thought so when we got up the next morning."

"Well, you have told me lots of things about Merriwell and what he was
doing with the crew. You're a great talker when you're loaded."

Gordon stiffened up a bit and tried to give his companion a sober stare,
but the effort was a ludicrous failure.

"Wazzyer mean?" he asked. "'Fi told you anything it was in strictest
confidence."

"Cert; but then, you know, anything to knife Merriwell."

Gordon braced off, his hands on the table before him. Ditson laughed and
went on:

"Now, if we make a combine against him we can do him bad."

"Wazzyer mean?" Gordon again demanded. "Mean that you repeated anything
I tol' you in confidence when I was full?"

"Not publicly," grinned Ditson. "I may have used it to injure Merriwell,
but I was careful how I used it."

Walter thumped the table with his fist, growing angry suddenly.

"You're a hanged two-faced fraud!" he huskily cried. "That's jusht what
you are, Ditson! Somebody's been telling things to the sophs. They found
out everything. It was you! And you pumped your points out of me when I
was full."

"That didn't hurt you," Ditson hastened to declare. "It was entirely to
hurt Merriwell, and h