“I believe Fenton is a bad man to have for an enemy,” said Rattleton, with unusual seriousness, as the boys once more gathered about the hammock, which Browning had not left for all of anything that was taking place beyond the shrubbery. “Well,” said Hodge, slowly, “it’s not likely he is in love with Frank, for Merry was not willing to be imposed upon by him. Frank may have to look out for the fellow.” “What’s that you are telling about me?” called the pleasant voice of Frank himself, as he emerged from beneath the vines over the door of the summerhouse followed by Diamond. “I’m all the time looking out for somebody. Here I’ve been having the battle of my life with Jack, and only beat him one point. I won the game on a fluke, at that.” “But he won it, as he always wins everything he goes into,” said the Virginian, with traces of mingled vexation and admiration. Toots came panting toward the spot all out of breath. “Lordy! Lordy!” he gasped; “I done ’clare teh goodness; I’s ’feared to stay ’roun’ dat stable any mo’!” “What’s the matter?” asked Frank. “You haven’t cleaned up all those wheels as soon as this?” “No, sar; but dat hostler in dar am crazy ma-ad, sar.” “What’s the matter with him?” “He done suffin’ to dat hawse Fiahfoot, an’ de hawse don kick him up again’ de side ob de stall. Wondah it didn’t kill him, sar! Po-erful wondah it didn’t bre’k some ob his bones! Made him so mad he got a fork an’ was gwan teh stick it right inteh dat hawse. I couldn’t stan’ teh see dat, an’ I hollered. Den he see I was a-watchin’ ob him, an’ he was ma-ad enough teh kill meh, sar. I don’ dar’ stay an’ clean dem bisuckles, Marser Frank.” “Those wheels must be cleaned to-night,” said Merriwell, decisively. “Come with me, Toots, and I will settle this thing so the hostler will not interfere with you.” He strode away toward the stable, and the colored boy followed at his heels. Hodge and Rattleton followed more leisurely. As Frank entered suddenly he detected the hostler, wrench in hand, doing something to one of the bicycles. It looked as if the man was making an attempt to ruin the wheel. And it happened that the wheel belonged to Frank! Three bounds took Merriwell to the side of the man, whom he grasped by the collar, crying: “What are you doing there?” The man straightened up, and turned his bloodshot eyes on the youth. His face was flushed, and the odor of his breath told he had been drinking heavily. “Leggo!” he snarled; “leggo, or I’ll smash ye!” “What were you doing to that wheel?” demanded Frank. “None o’ yer business!” roared the hostler. Then he dropped the wrench, and made a swinging blow at the boy. Frank dodged the blow and thrust out his foot in a manner that sent the awkward man sprawling. “Land ob wartermillions!” squawked Toots, delighted.