“You had better not be foolish, Bunol—better not make me any trouble. You’re too much of a load for me to carry.” “Too much load?” “That’s what I said. It was all right before I bucked up against Merriwell, but fighting him has cost me a pretty penny, and I’m in a bad hole. I dropped my last dollar and all I could rake on those Uniontown chumps. Thought they were dead sure to win, and gave the money to Kennedy to bet. I’m strapped, Bunol.” “But you get more easy.” “Not so easy. I’ve been working the old lady pretty hard of late, and she’s about ready to make a kick. I’ve even got money off sis.” “You offer me one hundred dollars to go ’way.” Chester glanced at his hand, on which sparkled a handsome diamond. “I’ll have to stick this stone up for the sum,” he said. “You see just where I’m at, Miguel. I’m bumping on the rocks. You can’t blame me. If I had not been beaten at every turn by Merriwell I’d be ’way ahead now.” “I keel him! You stop me! I know he make it trouble for you—for me.” “Killing doesn’t go, Miguel. You’re too hot-headed for this place. Come, old man, there is no reason why we should fuss about this matter. The time has come for us to split, and that is all there is to do.” But Miguel Bunol knew which side his bread was buttered on, and he did not fancy giving up a good thing like Arlington. “I go,” he said. “Good!” nodded Chester. “For one thousan’ dollars,” added Miguel. Chester had elevated his feet to the top of the table. Now he let them drop to the floor with a thud, flung the cigarette aside, and sat up. “You go——” he began. Then he paused, with his lips curling, finally adding: “——to the devil!” “I stay right here,” said the Spaniard, with unconscious wit. “As you choose,” said Chester; “but you’ll stay on your own account, and not one dollar more will you ever get from me.” Suddenly Bunol became cool. “That is so, eh?” he asked. “It is.” “Ha! You think it. You change your mind. I make you change your mind.” “You—you make me?” The idea that Bunol could make him do anything was amusing to Arlington. “I make you,” reiterated the Spaniard. “That’s a joke! Why, you poor fool, how will you go about it? What way have you to make me do anything?” “Plenty way. You say ‘no’? Ha! How you like it if I tell few thing ’bout you?” “Tell—tell what?” “How you do some thing since you come here. Ha! How you do your best to beat Deek Merriwell. How you try to have football-team beat, so Deek Merriwell he is beat. How you want him scratch with the poison ring, so his arm it swell, and so he can play no more at the football. Oh, I can tell!” “But you’ll get yourself into a worse scrape than I, for you have been the one to do most of the work against Merriwell. I shall swear that you lie.” “I tell your seester! I tell your mother!” “They’ll not believe you. My word will stand better than yours. You’ll simply get yourself into trouble.” “I prove some thing.”