"If you don't want to be jollied, you'd better keep still about Merriwell. All the fellows will be onto you if you keep it up." Rob flashed Old Put a cutting look, and then haughtily returned: "My tongue is my own, sah!" "All right," grunted Burn. "Use it as you please. You'll find I've given you a straight tip." "I presume, sah, a man has a right to criticise the playing of any fellow on the eleven?" "Sure; but it doesn't come very well from you, as you and Merriwell were rivals." "We were not rivals, if you please. He was substituted to fill my place after I was injured. But for this ankle, he would not have been on the team." "But that he refused to play football this season, you would not have been on the team," put in Bandy Robinson. "Oh, I see all you fellows are standing up for him and are down on me!" fiercely cried Marline. "I don't care if you are. I think Frank Merriwell is----" "Is what, sir?" It was Merriwell himself, who had approached the group without being noticed by any of them. He now stepped forward promptly and faced Marline. Rob turned pale, and his eyes gleamed. For some moments he did not speak, but he did not quail in the least before Merriwell's steady gaze. At last, gaining control of his voice, he sneered: "So you were listening. Well, there is an old saying that eavesdroppers seldom hear good of themselves." "So you call me an eavesdropper?" "You heard what was not meant for your ears." "Because I happened to be coming here to join this party. You were talking loudly and in public. There was no reason why I should not have heard, and I did so in anything but a sneaking manner. Your insinuation that I eavesdropped is an insult." "What are you going to do about it, sah?" "Demand satisfaction!" shouted back Frank, who was aroused to such a pitch that he was ready to quarrel with his rival on the slightest provocation. Marline grinned sarcastically. "Very well, sah," he said, something like exultation in his voice. "I am ready to give you all the satisfaction you want, sah, as soon as my ankle will permit." "You will fight me?" "With pleasure, sah." "All right; it's settled. I'll agree to give you a pair of nice black eyes." "No, you won't, sah." "Eh? You won't be able to stop me." "Only ruffians and prize fighters use their fists." "Eh? What do you mean?" "I mean business, sah!" shot back the boy from South Carolina, drawing himself up, with the aid of his crutch. "You have seen fit, Mr. Merriwell, to consider yourself insulted by me, and you have demanded satisfaction. You shall have it, sah--all you want! We will fight, but not with our fists. I am the challenged party, and I name swords as the weapons!"