But Hodge was a freshman, which counted against him in the eyes of the committee. The other candidates for the position were a sophomore, a junior and a senior. It was acknowledged that the senior had slight show of getting on. It was not his first attempt to get under the bat. He had played an outfield position one year, and had been substitute catcher one year, but this counted against him, if anything, for he had never done anything particularly brilliant. The other two men, however, Ned Noon, the junior, and Roger Stone, the sophomore, stood a fair chance of making the team. It was whispered about that Noon had some sort of “pull” with the committee, and he was almost sure to catch on, for all that it was thought Capt. Hardy favored Stone. Hodge was called “Merriwell’s candidate,” and, for all of Frank’s popularity, for all of the fact that he was looked on as the mainstay of the nine that season, it was agreed that Bart did not have much show of making the nine. Frank, however, persisted in his attempt to get Bart on. Up to the time of his talk with Griswold he had not suspected the feeling that existed in relation to Hodge. Now he saw it all, and he realized that Bart was in double danger. “He has injured a policeman, and, should it become known, some of his enemies might hold it over him. I must have a talk with him.” Frank started for Farnham Hall without delay. Just outside the wide doorway, before putting his foot on the steps, he paused, brought to a sudden halt by the sound of voices within. “Noon!” he thought. Then he heard another voice. “And Hodge!” he added. The rivals were standing just within the doorway, talking earnestly. Frank could see the back of Bart’s coat. The first words that reached his ears caused Frank to stop thus suddenly. “I tell you that you are in for it, Hodge. You knocked the cop out, and it will go hard with you if the job is fastened upon you.” “Well, I can’t help it if it does,” said Bart, and there was a sullen sound in his voice. “I didn’t mean to hurt the little runt, but it was my confounded quick temper that caused me to fling him up against the post.” “You made a fool of yourself,” declared Noon, with a sneering inflection. “Well, I don’t need to have you come and tell me of it!” cried Bart, angrily. “If it is known that you did the job, you stand a good show of being dropped from Yale with a dull thud.” Not a sound from Hodge. Merriwell was no eavesdropper, and he started to ascend the steps; but he dropped back and stood still, brought to a stop by Noon’s next words. “I am the only fellow of our crowd who saw you fling the cop up against the post. The others were too busy attending to the ‘townies.’ If I keep still, you stand a good chance of escaping; but, if I tell, you are a goner. That makes it plain enough that I can wind you up in a moment if I want to.”