"That's what he did," nodded Collingwood. "It was the greatest display of grit I've ever seen. Do you wonder he flopped over in a dead faint when we crossed the line at the finish?" The doctor looked at Frank's hand, which was now badly inflamed. After a thorough examination the physician glanced up at Frank and observed: "If you were able to row with this hand, I rather think you'd endure burning at the stake by a band of Indians without uttering a murmur!" "You dear fellow!" cried Winnie, with girlish enthusiasm; "I feel just like giving you a good hug!" Then Frank blushed more than ever. The doctor opened his case and proceeded to dress Merriwell's hand. While the physician was thus employed Frank was somewhat surprised to observe at a little distance the same man who had offered him a drink of brandy as he was recovering from his swoon at the close of the race. This man was watching the boy in a strange manner, but the moment he saw he was observed he quickly turned away. Frank's curiosity was aroused. "I wonder who he is and what he wants here?" thought the boy. "How did he get in here, anyway? He seems to take a remarkable interest in me, and I can't say that I like it." The man walked away and mingled with the throng. In a short time Frank's hand was cared for, and the doctor gave directions for future treatment of the felon. "It is bound to trouble you for some time, and you will find it very painful," he said. "After what you have done to-day, I doubt if you sleep much to-night." "I don't care if I do not sleep for a week so long as Yale won!" declared the boy. "You have the true Yale spirit," said the doctor, approvingly. "Yale men carry that unconquerable spirit out into the world, and that is why Old Eli turns out so many successful men in all walks of life. I think there is no fear as to your future, my boy." "Thank you, sir," said Merriwell, simply. CHAPTER XX. SPURNING A BRIBE. "I would like to speak with you." Frank felt a touch on his shoulder, and the words sounded in his ear. He turned quickly and found himself face to face with the mysterious stranger. It happened that at that moment they were alone, nearly all the throng having gathered about three fellows who, with banjo, mandolin and zither, were making some lively music. "What do you want?" asked Frank, rather suspiciously. The man beckoned for him to come aside. "I have something I wish to say to you, and I do not care to be overheard by others," he declared. "Well, I wonder what sort of a snap this is?" thought Merriwell. He hesitated a moment, and then curiosity to know what the stranger had to say overcame him, and he followed the man to a corner of the room. The stranger was very mysterious in his manner. "You are a likely sort of youngster," he said, in a rather noncommittal way. "Is that what you wish to tell me?" asked Frank, sharply.