"Well, you see, it is like this: I fell in with some gentlemen who seemed to take a strong interest in me. Note the word strong there. In fact they were too strong for me. They seemed to like me exceedingly well, and they pressed me to stay all night with them. I was sort of roped into it, as it were. I found it difficult to get away without wounding their feelings." This was said in a queer manner, and the lads about the table looked at each other inquiringly. "But you managed to get away?" said Pierson. "Yes, I offered them inducements in the shape of coin of the realm. They seemed to be out for stuff, and some person, who must love me dearly--had induced them to take charge of me and care for me tenderly. However I worked on their greed by offering more than my friend had offered, and, as I promised not to make too much of a fuss about it, I was let off, but barely in time to reach here. I am not going to say anything more about this matter just now, but I expect to look around some and find out who my friend is who engaged the gentlemen to care for me so tenderly. When I find him--well, I won't do a thing to him!" "Well, here's luck to you!" cried Pierson, lifting his glass. "Gentlemen, here's luck to Frank Merriwell, the best all-around man who ever called dear Old Yale _alma mater_. Drink--drink hearty!" A few words more and we will bring this story to a close. Frank was truly the hero of the college, and it was many a day before his wonderful dash was forgotten by even the most indifferent of the students.