“Well, you know he is a fine pitcher!” flashed Doris. “Every one knows that.” “Oh, of course, of course!” laughed Chester. “But he’s got brains enough to know when he is outclassed. Those chaps are professionals. What makes me tired is the fact that every one seems to think Mr. Merriwell perfect in every respect. I don’t pretend to be perfect myself. I have one or two faults, and he has his. For one thing, he talks too much to fellows he is friendly with. I could tell you something that would interest you, Doris.” “Me?” “Yes, indeed!” “Why, what could you tell me?” “Oh, never mind,” said Chet tantalizingly. “You think he is all right. I won’t say anything about it.” Doris flushed. “Do you mean to insinuate that he has been talking about me?” she asked. “I won’t say another word,” declared Arlington, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean to say that much.” At the same time he winked slyly at Zona. They walked on in silence, Doris having grown pale. After a time she suddenly turned to Chester, saying: “I don’t think it right for you to insinuate anything without making an explanation. You ought to tell me what you meant.” “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he declared. “Forget it!” But it was not easy for Doris to forget, and when they came to the rustic bridge over Ripple Brook she paused there, looking down into the water. Behind Doris’ back Chet made a signal to Zona, who did not understand it at first; but she finally drew aside. Arlington leaned his elbows on the rail close beside Doris, speaking in a low tone. “Do you want me to tell you the truth?” he asked. “Do you want me to tell you just what Dick Merriwell said?” “I don’t believe he said anything.” “All right; we will let it drop.” But, girllike, Doris’ curiosity was aroused, and she felt a strong desire to hear what Arlington seemed willing to tell. “If he did say anything, go ahead and tell me,” she finally urged. “But don’t tell me anything save the truth.” “No danger that I will do that,” he asserted, with an air of apparent sincerity. “Of course, you met Dick first and were friends with him before my sister came to Fardale. I have heard all about it. I know the whole business. I know, too, that you and Hal Darrell were pretty good friends before Dick interfered between you.” “He never interfered.” “Well, that’s what I have heard. Why, a fellow at school told me that Merriwell himself said he cut Darrell out with you.” Again the girl’s cheeks blazed. “I don’t believe he said it,” she indignantly declared. “Well, that’s the talk at school. They say he brags about it to his friends. He claims he can get any girl stuck on him if he tries.” “Somebody has been lying about him.” “If that is true, how do the boys know that your father and Hal’s father, who were great chums, put it up to make a match between you when you were old enough? Who told that? Isn’t that one of the secrets you told Dick Merriwell yourself?”