“You wanted it hot,” said Rattleton. “The waiter brought it hot, so you could cool it to suit yourself.” “That ought to break up your chill,” laughed Frank. Browning groaned. “I wish I’d never seen Arkansas!” he declared. “We’d been all right if Merriwell hadn’t tried to carry out his scheme of riding through the eastern part of the State. I caught the ague in those howling swamps, and goodness knows when I’ll get rid of it!” “Vot you vants to done,” said Hans, “is to froze dot ague oudt. Uf you sot yourselluf down mit an ice-houses in und stayed there elefen or nine hours, you shook all der ague away britty queek. Yaw!” “Oh, yes!” grunted the afflicted lad. “That is a fine scheme! All you need is a pill box and a few brains to become a first-class doctor. I don’t think!” He tried to cool his tea so that he could drink it. After a time, he was able to sip it. Then Frank caught Harry’s eye, and made a signal that Rattleton understood. Immediately Harry engaged Browning’s attention. Bruce sat the cup of tea down a moment, and Frank quickly exchanged it for the cup of cracked ice. After a bit, the big fellow took the cup by the handle, and, feeling sure the tea must be cool enough for him to drink with impunity, lifted it and took a mouthful of the fine cracked ice. If possible, that gave Bruce a greater shock than he had received from the scalding tea. Some of the ice slipped down his throat, and with a shout of rage, the big fellow sprang up from the table and rushed from the room, his blankets flopping about his heels. And all those jolly, heartless jokers at the table shouted with laughter once more. CHAPTER XV—A BOXING MATCH That afternoon, the Yale lads were invited down to the combined clubhouse and boathouse of the Blue Cove boys. They went along in a body, Browning having recovered sufficiently to make one of the party. The boathouse was built over the edge of the water, and a wing of it served as a clubroom. The regular eight-oar racing boat lay high and dry on her brackets, and the visitors inspected her with interest. “What do you think of her, Merriwell?” asked Kent Spencer, rather anxiously. “She’s all right,” nodded Frank. “It is plain she is a new boat, and made from an up-to-date model.” “We bought her last season. She is the first really good boat we ever owned, and that is how we happened to win the championship from Alexandria. She cost us a pretty sum, but we more than made it up on the race.” The final words were murmured into Frank’s ear, and Merriwell understood that, although betting on the races was forbidden, the Blue Cove lads had found a way to win some of the money Alexandria was so willing to stake on her crew. “Our old boat was too wide in the waist,” Spencer explained. “She could not slip through the water as easily as this one. I presume this may be improved upon, but I can’t see how.”