The party came trooping in, and Frank was not a little astonished to observe among them Bruce Browning, a big, strong, lazy sophomore, a fellow who was known to be a great hand to plan deviltry which was usually carried into execution by his friends.  As for Browning, he was not given to exerting himself when he could avoid it.

That a soph should associate with a party of freshmen seemed but a little short of marvelous, and Frank instantly scented “a job.”  Believing he had been singled out for the party to “jolly,” his blood was up in a moment, and he resolved to show them that he was not “easy.”

Jack Diamond drew himself up, his eyes fastened threateningly on Frank, and said: 

“Sir, you had the impudence to kick my dog, and when I remonstrated with you, you insulted me.  I demand an apology before these gentlemen.”

Frank held himself in check; he appeared as cool as an iceberg.

“Sir,” he said, “your confounded dog spoiled a pair of ten-dollar trousers for me, and I demand another pair—­or satisfaction.”

Harry Rattleton caught his breath.  Was Merriwell crazy?  He started forward, as if to intervene, but Diamond, his eyes blazing, motioned him back.

“Very well, sir,” said the Southerner, addressing Frank, “you shall have all the satisfaction you desire.  Mr. Ditson will represent me.”

Roland Ditson pressed forward.  He was a loud-voiced youth who wore loud clothes and sported a large amount of jewelry.

“Name your second, Merriwell,” he said in an authoritative way.  “We want to settle this matter as soon as possible.”

Frank named Harry, and the seconds conferred together.

Merriwell sat down and coolly awaited the result, with his hands in his pockets.  Diamond drew aside, his friends gathering about him.  Bruce Browning interested himself in what was passing between Rattleton and Ditson, and it was plain that he was urging them to do something.

After a few minutes Harry approached Frank, a troubled look on his face.

“It’s an outrage!” he indignantly exclaimed.  “Ditson insists that it be a degular ruel—­I mean a regular duel with rapiers.  He says you gave the challenge, and so Diamond has the right to name the weapons.  Such a thing can’t take place!”

“Oh, yes, it can,” said Frank, coolly.  “Accept the proposition and have the affair come off as soon as possible.”

“But, Frank, think of it!  I’ll bet Diamond is an expert swordsman, and he’s just the kind of a chap to lose his head and run you through the body!  Why, it would be dimply serrible—­I mean simply terrible!”

“I’ll have to fight him or take water.  Now, Harry, old man, you don’t want me to show the white feather, so go back and complete the arrangements.”

“But there ought to be some other way of settling it.  If you could fight him with your fists I know you’d beat him, but you don’t stand a show this way.”