“Gentlemen,” said Phil Hardy, speaking clearly and distinctly, “I wish to introduce to you my successor, Mr. Merriwell, who is now captain and manager of the ’varsity nine.” CHAPTER XXII. FRANK’S TERMS. “Three cheers for Capt. Merriwell!” “Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!” “Three more for Manager Merriwell!” “Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!” The pent-up feelings of the crowd burst forth in a wild roar of satisfaction. “Now,” rang out the clear voice of Charlie Creighton, as he scrambled up on the shoulders of two strong fellows and waved his cap in the air, “now give three cheers for plain Frank Merriwell, the whitest man, the truest sport, and the best all-round athlete in Yale! Wake ’em up!” They did. The feeling of enthusiasm that seized upon them just then was intense, and they cheered and cheered again. The windows of the quad filled. The news spread, and the cheering became general. Harry Rattleton was numb with dismay. “Manager and captain!” he gasped. “Gracious!” Bart Hodge was palpitating with satisfaction. “Manager and captain!” he cried. “Hurrah!” On the outskirts of the crowd that had gathered so swiftly about the new captain was Walter Gordan, eating his heart out with envy. “Oh, it’s just his infernal luck!” Walter whimpered. “Hear the fools cheer for him! It’s all they know!” “Let them cheer now,” Pink Pooler muttered in Gordan’s ear. “The cheering will turn to groans after a few ball games have been played.” “I don’t know,” said Forrest, who had caught Pink’s words. “He has been shrewd enough to get himself appointed manager, as well as captain. There is no telling what he may do with the team.” “It’s too late for him to make it a winner,” said Pooler, with satisfaction. “It takes time to build up a winning nine.” Frank’s friends crowded about him, shaking his hand and congratulating him, with a few exceptions. Some of his friends were not enthusiastic over his appointment. Harry Rattleton was one of them. A few others thought the same as Harry about it. But these were but few of the crowd that swarmed about Merry. Of course, some of those who shook his hand and expressed their delight were hypocritical, but the most of them were sincere. Frank was modest. He smiled and said: “Thank you, fellows. You are more than kind. It does one good to know he has such friends.” Harry Rattleton groaned. “It seems to me Merry is getting to be a soft thing!” he muttered. “They have made a mark of him this time, and he walked into the trap with his eyes open.” Harry was disgusted. He had warned Frank, but Frank had not heeded the warning. From what he had overheard, Rattleton was sure it was a trap to injure Frank. For a little while Harry was so disgusted that he went off by himself and declared he was glad of it, and that he hoped they would soak it to Frank. Then he was ashamed of himself for wishing ill luck to such a friend, and he felt like punching somebody’s head.