"Merriwell came to my rescue. He didn't desert me, if the rest of you did. He saw the cop nail me, and he sent his buttons flying by running into him. That gave me a chance to skip. I tell you, it took nerve to tackle a cop like that." Rob Marline laughed sarcastically, but did not say anything. Rattleton flushed with anger, but Merriwell did not seem to notice it. Harry went on with his story, telling of their adventures, and the party shouted with laughter when he related the clothesline incident. The fellows were gathering about Merriwell, and Marline found that he was being deserted, which added to his bitterness. He saw the boys listening to the story of Merriwell's attack on the officer and the trick with the clothesline, and the soul of the boy from the South was filled with bitterness. "He's cutting ice with the gang again," thought Marline. "That must be stopped." But how could he stop it? He thought of calling to those who had been with him before Merriwell came in, and asking them to have another drink. Then it seemed that he would humiliate himself by doing so, for he would cause everybody to notice how he had been abandoned. So he ordered another drink for himself, and drank it sullenly. Every time the boys laughed Marline grated his teeth. Things had not gone right with him that night, and he was in an ugly mood. He had called to see Inza Burrage, and had attempted to make himself "solid" with her. In the course of his conversation he had made some disparaging remark about Frank Merriwell. That remark was like a spark of fire in a keg of powder. In a moment Inza flared up and exploded. She told him Frank Merriwell was a gentleman. She told him Frank Merriwell was too much of a man of honor to malign an enemy behind his back. She showed deep scorn and contempt, and Marline left the house crestfallen and raging with anger. He had been touched on a tender spot. To have any one insinuate that Frank Merriwell was more honorable than he, was like stabbing him to the heart. The whiskey made Marline desperate. Little did he know that the boy he hated was in a most reckless mood. Had he known it, he would not have cared. There was not a drop of cowardly blood in Marline's body. He longed for an encounter with Merriwell. At length, when he could stand it no longer, he arose to his feet. Some one was complimenting Merriwell on his nerve. Marline had not tasted the last glass of whiskey brought him. He took it in his hand, made two steps toward Frank, and flung the stuff full into Merry's face! "If Mr. Merriwell has so much nerve, let him resent that!" rang out the hoarse voice of the boy from South Carolina. "We'll see how much nerve he has!" Frank took out a handkerchief and slowly wiped the liquid from his face. He was very pale, and his eyes gleamed with a glare that his best friends had never seen in them before. But he laughed, and those who knew him best shuddered at that laugh.