“Some time when he is upstairs, call him down,” suggested Horner.

“Fists are not the only things that fellows can fight with,” said Parker.  “The matter has been kept quiet, but it is said to be a fact that Diamond forced him into a duel with rapiers, and he disarmed the Southerner twice, having him completely at his mercy each time.”

“And Diamond prides himself on being an expert with that kind of weapon,” nodded Horner.

“Why doesn’t Browning do something?” asked Paulding.  “It is outrageous faw a lot of freshies to run things this way.”

“Browning is in training,” said Parker.

“In training?  What faw?  Why, he is so lazy—­”

“He’s training to get some of the flesh off him.  It is my opinion that somebody must check Merriwell’s wild career, and he is getting in condition to do it.  You know that Browning was one of the hardest men who ever entered Yale.  He is a natural athlete, but he’s lazy, and he has allowed himself to become soft.  Why, he knocked out Kid Lajoie, the professional, in a hard-glove contest of three rounds.  Lajoie was easy fruit for him.  I fancy he means to go up against this fresh duck Merriwell and do him.  That’s the only thing that will pull Merriwell off his perch.  He doesn’t mind being hazed.”

“Doesn’t mind it!” shouted Horner.  “Confound him!  He always manages to turn the tables in some way, and hazes the parties who try to haze him.”

Two youths came in from the front room.

“Hey, Browning!  Hello, King!  Come join us.  You, too, Emery”—­to the other fellow.  “What’ll you have, Browning?”

Browning accepted a seat at the table, but waved his hand languidly as he declined to drink.

“I’m not taking anything now,” he said.

“Oh, but you must!  Have some ale, old man.”

“Excuse me, gentlemen.  I tell you squarely that I am not taking anything just now.  By and by I will be with you again.  Emery will go you one.  That’s what he came in for.”

“That’s right,” declared Browning’s companion.  “I was out stargazing last night.  Looked at the Long-Handled Dipper a long time, and it gave me an awful thirst.  I’ve had it with me all day.  Yes, mine’s ale.”

So another round was ordered.  Horner passed around the cigarettes, and Browning declined them.  The others lighted up fresh ones.

“Say,” broke out Emery, suddenly, “do you know that fresh Ditson gives me that tired feeling?”

Tad Horner grinned.

“He’s no good,” said Tad.  “He is crooked and he’s a toucher.  Touched me for a V once, and I am looking for that fiver yet.  That was two years ago, before I came here.  I knew him then.”

“He tried to touch us for a drink as we came along,” said Browning.  “I took him in here once, but I’ve been sorry ever since.  He said he had his thirst with him just now.  I told him to go sit on the fence and let the wind blow him off.”