“Are you through?” “Well, I haven’t said half I could!” snarled Crauthers, showing his dark teeth. “Why, we had things right in our own hands! With you on that committee, the Black Wolves could have run things as they chose. You lost the greatest opportunity you ever had to hurt Merriwell—the greatest you will ever have.” “Perhaps I’m tired of this foolishness,” said Chester. “What foolishness?” “Trying to injure Merriwell.” “What?” gasped Crauthers. “You? Why, he has insulted you in a dozen ways, and you are the last man to——” “Oh, I’ve forced it on him, and you know that Merriwell is not such a bad fellow after all.” Crauthers seemed to be choking. “Well,” he growled, “I’m blowed if I didn’t think all along that there was something of the squealer about you! You blowed too much about your father being the great D. Roscoe Arlington, and——” “That will do for you!” said Chester, with a pleasant smile. “It is just about the limit.” “The limit! Why, you haven’t backbone enough to——” “If you think so,” said Arlington, “just walk down behind the cedars with me.” “What would you do?” “I’ll agree to give you a handsome thrashing.” “You can’t do it! Why, I can wallop any squealer that ever——” “You’re a big stiff!” declared Chester. “You do not dare walk down behind the cedars.” Immediately Crauthers started for the cedars, a little grove that stood within sight of the academy. Behind this grove, hidden from view of any one in or about the academy, many a fight had taken place. It was a favorite place for cadets to settle their differences when they had not time to get farther away. “Come on—if you dare!” growled Crauthers. “I’ll be right along,” promised Chester. Five minutes later the two, who had seemed on friendly terms up to that day, met behind the cedars. Chester pulled off his coat and placed it on the ground, dropping his cap upon it. Then he sailed into Crauthers. Three or four cadets had discovered that something was going to happen behind the cedars, and they were on hand to witness the encounter. Arlington had taken boxing-lessons, and he was really skilful. True, he had found his skill outmatched by that of Dick Merriwell in a personal encounter, but now it did not take him long to demonstrate that he was Crauthers’ superior, and in less than ten minutes he had the fellow whipped to a finish. “If any of your friends make the kind of talk you did to me,” he politely said, “I’ll cheerfully apply the same treatment.” Crauthers, with his face bruised and one eye rapidly closing, made no reply, but he ground his dark teeth in impotent rage. Arlington, however, had demonstrated that he would fight, and from that time there was little outspoken criticism of his change in bearing toward Dick Merriwell. Brad Buckhart was heartily disgusted when he heard of the new position Arlington had taken.