“Well, what are you going to do?” asked Frost, taking a chair. Once he had regarded Manton with considerable respect; but now his respect was gone and he found it difficult to hold in check a feeling of contempt for the fellow. “What is Merriwell doing?” “He’s getting ready to participate in the meet.” “Getting ready—how?” “Practicing jumping and pole vaulting. Some of his friends have arrived at the Elm Tree. There’s a field near the inn. I watched them through a field-glass this forenoon. Merriwell is a pole vaulter, sure enough; but I don’t believe he’ll press me close.” “Don’t you?” “No.” “Let me tell you something, Frost.” “Go ahead.” “I’ve changed my mind about that fellow. He’s a winner if given anything like a square show. If you defeat him, you’ll have to do it through a trick of some sort.” “Rot! Just because he happened to get the best of you, you fancy he can beat the world. Get over it!” “All right; but you wait and see. Unless you find some method of preventing him by a trick, he’ll show you up, just as he did me.” “You make me sick!” snarled Frost angrily. “Oh, do I?” “Yes, you do!” “You’ll be sicker after you go against him.” “You’re completely whipped. All the spirit has been taken out of you.” “I’ve learned something. You’ve got your lesson to learn.” “How can he be defeated by a trick?” “I don’t know now. If I find a way, will you try it?” Frost hesitated. “It’s tom-foolishness,” he declared. “I’d rather beat him on the square.” “Go ahead! Go ahead! Have your own way and be sorry about it afterward.” They were silent some moments. At last Frost slowly said: “If you could tell me of any method that would work I might consider it—that is, if it wouldn’t be detected.” “I’ll devise a method before to-morrow. I’ve got nothing else to think about. Come round to-morrow and I’ll have a plan. I hope I can get my face into shape so I’ll be able to attend the meet without causing comment. I’ll have to stay shut up here a day or two longer, though.” “Well, I’m going back,” said Frost, rising. “I’ll come round to-morrow. So long.” CHAPTER IX. THE GREAT DAY. It was the day of the Eagle Heights meet. The morning was misty, but by eight o’clock the sun drove the mists flying down the river toward the sea and shone forth from a cloudless sky of blue. Never at any country club for amateur athletes had there been such a gathering of “swell” followers of sport for sport’s sake. Contestants came from various parts of the East, and people of wealth, who were interested in open-air sports and who could attend, appeared to witness the events. Frank Merriwell and a number of his friends reached the clubhouse at nine o’clock in the forenoon. They were welcomed cordially. Frank met a number of young athletes whom he knew and was given the “glad hand” by all of them.