“That’s so,” agreed Bruce.  “But I hate to think how he is crowing to himself over the way the freshies got into the park.  I’d like to take the starch out of him at once.”

Hartwick induced Browning to leave the park, and the departure of the king caused the sophomores to wander away in small groups.

As a general thing they were discussing Merriwell, his position with the freshmen, and his pitching.  Some insisted that he was not a pitcher and would never make one, while others were equally confident that he was bound to become a great twirler some day.

Some of the groups discussed the antagonism between Merriwell and Browning, and all were confident that the king would do the freshman when he got himself into condition.  It was not strange that they believed so, for they remembered how Bruce had knocked out Kid Lajoie, who was a professional.

Browning himself proceeded directly to his rooms, where he sat himself down and fell to thinking.  Twice had he been up against Merriwell, and he had found out that the leader of the freshmen was no easy thing.  In neither struggle had he obtained an advantage through his own unaided efforts, and in this last affair he had felt that he was losing his wind, while Merriwell seemed as fresh as ever till he was thrown by a third party.

“That’s where I am not yet his match,” Bruce soberly decided.  “If I were fortunate enough to land a knockout blow with my left at the outset I’d finish him easily; but if he should play me and keep out of my reach he might get me winded so he could finally get the best of it.  I must work off more flesh.”

Having arrived at this conclusion, Browning was decidedly glad that his friends had kept him from closing in on Merriwell and forcing a fight on the ball field.

“Another week will do it,” Bruce thought.  “No matter what is said, I’ll not meet that fellow till I am his match—­till I am more than his match, for I must do him.  If I do not my days as king of the sophs are numbered.  I can see now that some of the fellows sympathize secretly with Merriwell, although they do not dare do so openly.  It must be stopped.  He may be a first-class fellow, but when he treads on my corns I kick.”

Hartwick tried to talk to Bruce, but the latter would say very little, and it was not long before he left the room.

Browning stepped out briskly, and a stranger who saw him could not have believed that he had the reputation of being the laziest lad in college.

In one line Bruce was thoroughly aroused, but he was neglecting his studies in a shameful manner, and more than once a warning voice told him that while he was putting himself in condition to dispose of Merriwell he was getting into trouble in another quarter.

He did not heed that warning, however.  His one thought was to retain his position as king of the sophomores, and in order to do that he must not let any freshman triumph over him.