“I don’t think so; but you should remember that he is in perfect form and condition, while I am rusty. In order to meet him and do my best I must practice. That I shall do. Wait. I promise you satisfaction—and Mr. Darleton the same!” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER III GETTING INTO TRIM. Bart Hodge was not aware that Frank had been so thoroughly aroused; but when he was called to Merry’s room in the hotel that day after lunch and found two complete fencing outfits there—foils, masks, jackets, and gauntlet gloves—he realized that there was “something doing.” Frank closed and locked the door. “Strip down and make ready,” he said grimly. “I’m going to brush up and get in condition, and you are the victim.” “I’m happy to be the victim now,” declared Bart; “in case Mr. Darleton is the victim later.” Something more than an hour later the comrades were resting after a bath and rub down. Bart’s eyes shone and his dark, handsome face wore an expression of great satisfaction. “You may be rusty, Merry,” he observed; “but I fail to see it. I swear you fenced better to-day than ever before in all your life.” “You think so, Bart; but I can’t believe that. A man can’t be at his best at fencing, any more than at billiards, unless he is in constant practice.” “Oh, I know I’ve gone back; but you have not. I’ll wager my life you can give Fred Darleton all he is looking for.” “It would be a pleasure to me,” confessed Frank. “Somehow he irritated me strangely.” “I’d never supposed it by your manner.” “If I had lost my temper I should have been defeated. Mr. Darleton has a temper, and I shall count on it leading to his downfall, in case we meet.” “You’ll meet, for you are challenged. He thinks you a mark, Merry. He’ll be overconfident.” “Another thing I count on as aiding me. Overconfidence is quite as bad as lack of confidence. Darleton has been praised too much, and he believes he is very nearly perfect as a fencer. A defeat now will either make or mar him. If defeated, he will either set about working harder to acquire further accomplishment, or he will quit.” “I believe he’ll quit.” “I don’t know.” “I don’t like him, Merry.” “There is something about him that I do not fancy, myself. I’ve not seen him enough to judge what it is. I’ve tried to think it might be his freshness in shooting his mouth the way he did; but something asserts that I should have disliked him had he kept his mouth closed. He has an air of directness; but behind it there is a touch of cunning and craft that stamps him as crooked. I may sympathize with a weak chap who goes crooked through temptation; but I have no sympathy for a sly rascal who is dishonest with deliberation. If Darleton is naturally honest, I have misjudged him.” There came a heavy knock on the door and the sound of voices outside.