“Gol darn my punkins!” drawled Ephraim Gallup; “but this here is a slick place, I snum!” “Diamond tells us there is a chance for some sport here,” said Rattleton. “That’s what we’re looking for, you bet!” Bruce groaned. “I’m looking for quinine, blankets, hot water, pepper tea, any old thing to warm me up!” he said. “I feel another of those confounded Arkansas chills coming on.” Then Frank introduced his friends to Kent Spencer, and there followed a general case of introducing. The Blue Cove lads seemed a rather pleasant set of fellows, reminding Frank and his friends of the Lake Lily boys. Browning did not stop for introductions, but hustled into the hotel, and lost no time in beginning the battle to ward off a chill. Browning’s chills were unpleasant for him, but they were the subject of much joking on the part of his comrades. Frank had been certain that the boys would be hungry when they arrived, and he had ordered a square meal served for them all, so that the table was ready for them shortly after they appeared and washed up in their rooms. Browning was on the bed, covered with quilts and blankets, which he had pilfered from the beds of the other fellows, gulping down quinine in huge doses and groaning dismally. “Aren’t you coming down to get something to eat, old fellow?” asked Hodge. “Oh, yes, I’m cuc-cuc-cuc-coming down to eat!” chattered Bruce, sarcastically. “I’d enjoy eating, wouldn’t I?” “We’ll have something good,” grinned Rattleton. “We’ll have posen frudding—I mean frozen pudding.” “Boo!” gasped the big fellow. “Dud—dud-don’t speak of it!” “And ice cream—good, cold ice cream.” “Gug-gug-get out bub-bub-bub-before I tut-tut-throw you out!” roared Browning, in exasperation. “You are tut-tut-taking your life in your hand when you cuc-cuc-come around me talking about ice cuc-cuc-cuc—— Confound it! get out!” Then the laughing lads left him alone in his misery. It was a jolly meal in the cool dining-room of the little hotel. The boys cracked jokes, told stories, laughed and enjoyed themselves fully. In the midst of it all, Browning stalked into the room, bundled to his ears in blankets. “Say,” he called, “is there any good, hot tea or coffee?” “Plenty of it,” assured Merriwell. “Gimme a cup—quick!” Bruce found a seat at the table, and Frank ordered a cup of tea to be brought. Then, while Rattleton and Mulloy were condoling with Browning over his misfortune, Merriwell gave the waiter a tip to bring a cup of cracked ice with the tea, but to place it beside Frank’s plate. The waiter obeyed the order, and soon the tea, boiling hot, was before Browning. Bruce was so eager to swallow something hot that he caught it up and gulped down nearly half of it. Then he uttered a roar of dismay. “Confound it!” he cried, as soon as he could speak. “That tea has taken the skin off all the way down! I’m parboiled inside! Oh, great Cæsar!”