“Hello, Dick,” he said. “I was waiting for you to finish breakfast.” “Waiting for me?” exclaimed Dick, without seeking to repress his surprise. “What are you doing over here, Arlington?” Chet glanced around. “Can’t talk here very well,” he said. “I wish you’d come outside. I want to tell you something.” Dick hesitated, for the thought of having anything to do with this chap, who had treated him in such a contemptible manner, was far from agreeable. “Better come,” urged Chester. “You’ll be glad to know what I’m going to tell you. It’ll be a good thing for you.” “What sort of a trick are you up to now?” demanded Merriwell, piercing the other lad with his keen eyes. “No trick at all,” protested Chester. “Why should you suppose that I’m always up to some sort of a trick?” “Why shouldn’t I suppose so? Your record is enough to make anybody suppose such a thing.” “Oh, I don’t know. I presume there are fellows who have worse records.” “In reform schools and penitentiaries,” said Dick grimly. Arlington’s face flushed, and he seemed on the verge of a burst of anger, but this he succeeded in repressing. “You’re pretty hard on me,” he muttered. “No harder than you deserve. You must acknowledge that I have been easy with you in the past—far easier than any other fellow would have been. Patience and forbearance ceased to be a virtue when you betrayed me in such a contemptible manner after coming down here with us.” “But you don’t understand about that, Merriwell. I came down here to play ball, as I have told you before. When you fellows got no chance in Maplewood, I stayed there to get onto the Maplewood team, not having an idea that you would come over here and get into the league.” “After we had been treated in a most contemptible manner at Maplewood, you took up with the man who treated us thus. You have played on his team, knowing all the time that he was up to every sort of crooked game and underhand trick to down your schoolmates. No, Arlington, as long as I remember your behavior this summer, I can never again have the slightest confidence in you—I can’t even hope for your reformation.” “Well, won’t you come outside where I can tell you why I’m here this morning? I’m not going to beg you to come, but I think you’d better do so.” “Go ahead,” said Dick. “I’ll hear what you have to say.” He followed Chester from the hotel, and they paused beneath the oak tree, where they were seen a few moments later by McLane.