“On the contrary, I make no pretensions whatever.” “He doesn’t have to,” chipped in Grafter. “His record speaks for him.” “Perhaps you’ll have an opportunity to purchase his secret for ten thousand dollars,” sneered Manton. “You are so flush with money.” “It wouldn’t cost me quite ten thousand now,” retorted the shot-putter. “Only nine thousand nine hundred. I have a hundred coming.” “That’s right,” admitted Manton; “but winning that hundred may cost you dearly before long. I generally get even.” “Welcome to try.” “If you linger until our open meet comes off,” said Manton, again addressing Merriwell, “we’ll try to find some one to defeat you at something.” “Jumping or pole vaulting, for instance,” said Farley Fisher. “In a club made up of specialists you should be able to defeat an ordinary all-round man,” said Frank. “You know it is the rule that an all-round man seldom excels at any particular thing.” “He fancies he is the exception to the rule,” said Frost, in his cold, chilling way. “Gentlemen!” exclaimed Bert Fuller reprovingly; “don’t forget that Mr. Merriwell is a guest!” “Oh, never mind them,” smiled Frank. “They’re amusing themselves by seeking to get me on the string. It doesn’t disturb me, and it may give them pleasure.” “He’s too blamed cool and undisturbed!” growled Farley Fisher, turning away. “Makes me want to punch him! I know Manton is just boiling to get at him with his fists.” “Manton could show him up that way,” said Frost. “Too bad he didn’t challenge the fellow to put on the gloves. Then there would have been no question about the result.” The defeated bowler left the alley, accompanied by a few of his bosom friends. Frank was congratulated by a number of the members, who told him plainly that they had not fancied it possible he could defeat their man at bowling. “Well,” nodded Merry, “you know there was nothing sure about it until it was over. Mr. Manton is a splendid bowler, but he takes defeat hard. He’s a poor loser.” Grafter kept close to Merry. Before Frank left the club, he found an opportunity to say: “I’d like to have a little private talk with you, Mr. Merriwell. Will it be too much bother?” “Not at all, Mr. Grafter. I’m at liberty any time you may select.” “Where are you stopping?” “At Elm Tree Inn, down below. Just going down for lunch now. Will you take lunch with me?” “I should be pleased to!” exclaimed Grafter. “But why don’t you stop here to lunch?” “I invited him,” the club president hastened to explain; “but he said he had some business that he must look after, and so he could not stay to-day.” “Oh, then I’ll interfere with your business?” said the shot putter. “Not at all. The fact is, I’m half expecting some of my boys to arrive at the inn, and I wish to be there when they show up.” A few minutes later Grafter was in the carriage with Merriwell, Hodge, and Fuller. Manton and his particular chums watched the four depart.