Frank stepped out and spoke to a man who was passing, inquiring about boarding houses. The man was rather surly, but he told Merry of a house kept by Mrs. Walker, and soon the party was on the way thither. Mrs. Walker’s house proved to be a long, rambling, frame building, about which hovered an atmosphere of poverty. They were met at the door by a sharp-nosed, belligerent-appearing woman, who placed her hands on her hips and demanded to know who they were and what they wanted. Removing his hat and bowing low with grace and politeness, Merry explained that they were looking for a place to stop overnight, at least, and he hastened to add that they were willing to pay in advance, emphasizing this statement by producing a roll of bills. The eyes of the woman glittered as she saw the money. “Are you baseball players?” she inquired. Merry confessed that they were, whereupon she shook her head with an air of regret. “Then I can’t have anything to do with ye,” she declared. “What difference does that make, if we are quiet and gentlemanly and pay our bills in advance?” inquired Merriwell. “It makes a heap of difference. I can’t take ye in.” “I wish you would be kind enough to give a satisfactory reason for refusing us, madam.” “I ain’t giving any reasons, and I ain’t talking too much. You can’t stop here.” “Not if we pay double rates for transients and pay in advance, Mrs. Walker?” “Not if you pay ten times regler rates and pay in advance,” was the grim answer. “I judge that’s plain enough for you.” “It’s plain enough, but still we cannot understand your reasons. I wish you would——” “It ain’t any use making further talk. You’ve got my answer, and that settles it.” Saying which, she retreated into the house and slammed the door in their faces. “I’m so lonesome, oh, I’m so lonesome!” sang Jack Ready. “Children, we are cast adrift in the cold and cruel world. We are stranded in the wilds of Iowa, far from home and kindred. Permit me to shed a few briny tears.” “This thing is getting me blazing mad!” grated Bart Hodge. “What do you think about it, Merry?” “There seems to exist a peculiar prejudice against baseball teams in this town,” said Frank. “This makes me think of a little experience of mine in Missouri two years ago,” began Stretcher. But Buck Badger suddenly placed a clenched fist right under Jim’s nose, which caused the boy from Missouri to dodge backward, exclaiming: “I beg your pardon! I’ll tell you about that some other time.” “What can we do?” exclaimed Morgan. “We seem to be up against it.” “Perhaps we can get into a private house somewhere if we pay enough,” suggested Rattleton. “I’m willing to doff the coe—I mean cough the dough.” “We’ll have to try it,” said Frank. They did try it, with the result that they were promptly refused at three houses, although Merry resorted to all the diplomacy at his command. They turned back into the main part of the town. “What will you do now, Frank?” asked Morgan.