“A what?” echoed Merriwell. “Why, the nearest this fellow ever came to the inside of Yale College was Jackson’s poker joint in New Haven. If he has represented himself as a student of Yale, it shows he began by lying to you right off the reel. This fellow was expelled from Harvard, and was drummed out of New Haven for cheating at cards! That’s the kind of a bird he is!” CHAPTER XII—HARLOW’S DISCOMFITURE Something like a grating imprecation escaped Harlow’s lips, and it seemed that he would leap for Frank’s throat. But the revolver was still in Merriwell’s hand, and, somehow, its muzzle wandered around, and stopped when it covered Rolf. The accused lad literally gnashed his teeth. The others were aghast for a moment, and then Kent Spencer seriously said: “Look here, sir, you will have to prove that charge. Otherwise, you will find you have made a big mistake in accusing a gentleman of being a blackguard.” “I can prove it without a struggle,” assured Frank. “How?” “In several ways. To begin with, I am a student at Yale myself. It was in New Haven I first met this crook. I exposed him when he was bleeding some of my friends by playing poker with them and using marked cards.” “A lie!” Harlow almost screamed; “a vile lie!” “It is the truth,” asserted Jack Diamond. “I was in that game. Harlow beat me, and he would have beaten me worse but for Mr. Merriwell.” “Mr. Who?” Spencer shouted. “Merriwell.” “Who is Mr. Merriwell?” “That is Mr. Merriwell right there,” said Jack, nodding toward Frank. “Frank Merriwell—Frank Merriwell, the ball player and all-around athlete?” questioned Spencer, excitedly. “That’s who he is,” assured the Virginian. “Then Mr. Harlow should be very well acquainted with him,” said the stroke of the crew, “for he has said that Frank Merriwell is his particular friend.” “Yes,” spoke up another, “he referred us to Frank Merriwell when he applied for the position to coach our crew.” “My eyes! what a crust!” shouted Diamond. “I never heard of such cheek! He referred you to Merry because he thought you could not reach him by letter as he knew Merry was somewhere out West on a bicycle tour.” “All of us had heard of Mr. Merriwell,” said Spencer. “We saw his name in the papers often. A sporting magazine spoke of him as the destined leader in baseball and football at Yale. Besides that, I know a person who is personally acquainted with him. Naturally, when Mr. Harlow declared that Frank Merriwell was a particular friend of his we were inclined to regard him with favor, and I am greatly astonished to discover that he has been deceiving us.” Harlow looked disgusted. “I presume you are ready to take the word of these strangers against me!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t think that of you, but——” “If this is Frank Merriwell, why shouldn’t we take his word?” “How do you know he is Frank Merriwell?” demanded Rolf.