“It don’t make no difference whether you believe it or not. You go ahead and investigate. Mebbe you’ll have a good time stopping in Cartersville, but I don’t think it.” “Oh, they’ll have fun!” sneered one of the crowd. “Carey Cameron will see about that.” “Shut up, Bilker!” snapped Madison. “You ain’t to call no names.” “Who is Carey Cameron?” asked Merry promptly. But no one would answer the question. Madison turned away, after giving Merriwell another glaring look of hatred, and the young ruffians flocked after him. “Well,” said Merry, “that incident is closed for the present. Now we’ll find a hotel and secure accommodations.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XII TURNED DOWN. It was not a difficult thing to find a hotel. Inquiry enabled them to reach the Hall House, which was the nearest public house after leaving the station. It was not a particularly inviting house on the outside, being sadly in need of paint. It was a frame building, standing on a corner, and a number of loafers were sitting about in front, smoking, chewing tobacco, and gossiping. They stared curiously at the boys. Frank led the way into the office. Two men, one in his shirt sleeves and the other looking like a countryman, were talking politics. They stopped and turned to look the strangers over. “Where is the proprietor?” inquired Frank, as he stepped briskly up to the desk. The man in his shirt sleeves drawled: “What yer want o’ him?” “We want to put up here.” “Can’t do it.” “Can’t?” “Nope.” “Why not?” “I reckon you’re ball players, ain’t ye?” “Yes, sir.” “This house don’t accommerdate no ball players.” “But we are gentlemen, and we——” “I tell you this house don’t accommerdate no ball players. That ought to be plain ernough for ye. Go on about your business.” “This is a public house, isn’t it?” “Ye-ah.” “Well, I demand to see the proprietor.” “You’re lookin’ at him. Help yourself.” “Are you the proprietor?” “You bet!” “And you refuse to give us accommodations in your hotel?” “You bet!” “All right. Your only reason for doing so is because we are baseball players, is it?” “I didn’t say so,” answered the man shrewdly. “But you inferred it.” “Did I?” “It sounded that way.” “Well, there may be a dozen other reasons, young feller. I’ve been in the hotel business ten years, an’ you can’t trap me. We ain’t prepared to accommerdate ye. You didn’t notify us you was comin’, an’ so we made no special preparations. Our help is short, there’s a case of typhus fever in the house, my wife is down with the lumbago, and I’m some broke up myself with the chills. So you see there ain’t no need to discuss the matter further. We can’t take ye in. Good day. The Mansion House is up the street three squares.”