“Wouldn’t that freeze your feet!” he exclaimed, as he finished telling Dick about it. “He’ll be trying to get chummy with you next. He will, I know!” Dick smiled a bit, but said nothing. “Say, pard,” came anxiously from the Texan, “I hope you won’t let that onery coyote come crawling round you any whatever. Not even for his sister’s sake. She’s all right, but you can’t trust Chet Arlington.” “Don’t worry,” was all Dick said. That afternoon Arlington was on hand to watch the practise of the football-team. Unhampered by the orders of the committee, Dick had full charge of the men on the field, and he put them through their paces in a way that demonstrated what he could do with them if given full sway. The boys seemed to show up unusually well and take hold of the work with new interest. Whenever a play was carried out with unusual adroitness Chester nodded and smiled. “Great!” he said. “The team is in the finest possible shape, and Merriwell must be given credit for it all. I have doubted his ability in the past, but I acknowledge my mistake.” “He makes me sick!” muttered Fred Stark, walking away. Stark found Mark Crauthers talking to Sam Hogan over near the grand stand. Crauthers had been doctoring his eye, but he looked as if he had been “up against the real thing.” “Look here,” said Fred, as he joined the others, “there’s Arlington over yonder clapping and cheering for Merriwell. I wanted to hit him, but——” “That’s it!” exclaimed Crauthers. “I know just how you felt. I did hit him! And he hit me! I hadn’t an idea a fellow who had been whipped by Merriwell could fight the way he can.” “He’s a thorough cad!” declared Stark. “I see through his little game. He’s beaten by Merriwell, and he has given up. Now he hopes to get on by turning round and howling for that fellow—hopes to get taken into Merriwell’s set, perhaps.” Hogan glanced round. Seeing there was no one near enough to hear what they were saying, he spoke in a low tone: “The Wolves are broken up. He’s never been any use. We three are the only ones left.” “And we may as well quit,” said Crauthers regretfully. “If he gets in with Merriwell, he’ll give the whole thing away.” “One last meeting,” urged Stark. “When?” “To-night.” They looked at one another, nodded, and Hogan said: “I’ll be on hand. The Den, I suppose?” “Yes. It’s not likely we’ll ever meet there again after to-night. It wouldn’t be safe. If Arlington blowed on us——” “But it will take him some time to get in with Merriwell. Dick Merriwell is not going to take up with that fellow at once. Arlington will have to get right down and crawl before Merriwell forgives him.” “I’m not so sure,” said Stark. “There is a reason why Merriwell may be glad to take up with Arlington.” “You mean——” “Arlington’s sister, of course. She’s smashed on Merriwell, and he is some smitten on her. That will make all the difference in the world. I’ll not be surprised to see Merriwell and Arlington chummy within a week or so.”