Dick jerked the knife from the door, turned about with it in his hand, and strode back at Miguel Bunol. The young Spaniard cried out in excitement, thinking Merriwell meant to attack and stab him. He made a spring for a corner, where stood a pair of Indian clubs, and one of these he picked up as a weapon. He chattered something in Spanish as he faced about again, but Dick had paused by the table, and was talking to Chester. “It will be a good thing for you, Arlington,” Merriwell was saying, “if this snake in the grass has to leave Fardale. If he remains, he will some day get you into a bad scrape, mark what I say.” Chester flung back his head with a haughty pose. “You have had things your own way since coming to this room, Merriwell,” he said. “But you cannot deny that I saved your life, for that knife would have struck you fairly had I not grasped Miguel’s arm. If you report this matter, it will bring about an investigation, which may mean no end of trouble for me, resulting in my expulsion, as well as Bunol’s. Of course, I have no way of preventing you from doing as you like, but I advise you to think it over before you carry it too far. And now, before there is further trouble, get out. Leave that knife here on the table.” “No; I’ll take the knife as a trophy.” “The knife belongs to me!” cried Bunol. “No; it belongs to me,” declared Dick, as he slipped it into his pocket. “As parting advice to you, Arlington, take care that your snaky friend does not carry a knife, unless you wish him to land you in prison by murdering somebody when you are not around.” Dick walked out, without once looking back. His manner was perfectly fearless. When the door closed behind Merriwell, Bunol uttered a little exclamation of disappointment, dropping the Indian club to the floor. He sat down heavily on a chair. “You fool!” said Chester scornfully. “Do you want to get us both hanged? If that knife had struck him——” “He would be dead now!” “And we would be in a fine scrape! Merriwell is right; you must stop carrying a knife.” “I—I stop? I—I no carry knife?” “Well, if you do, I’ll have to cut clear of you.” Bunol seemed thunderstruck. “You—you do that? You cut clear of me? Why, you bring me here! You pay my way here! You say I must come to school at Fardale.” “Because I found you handy before we came here. But now you are becoming a trouble to me. I am beginning to think I’d be better off without you.” The young Spaniard showed still further amazement. “You mean I had better go ’way?” he asked. “I think you had,” answered Chester, plainly making an effort to summon the courage to say so. “I have been thinking about it for some time. You are not much interested in this school, and there is no particular reason why you should stay here.” “And you I think is great friend to me!” returned Bunol wonderingly. “Well, I have been a friend to you, haven’t I?” “You seem so.”