"Without yonder portal," solemnly returned Jones. "As I approached this gilded snare of Satan, I chanced to behold one who hath lately removed from one eye a beef-steak poultice, and whose other eye is in the neighborhood of several strips of plaster." "Mason?" cried several. "Verily thou hast named him," bowed Dismal. "He stood there shivering in the bitter cold, while about him gathered his wretched followers. It was a sad and heart-rending sight. I was touched--no, I mean I was afraid I would be touched, and I hastened hither to seek something that would drive from me memory that sad spectacle. Hot toddy, please." "Mason?" exclaimed Diamond. "I wonder why the fellow is hanging around here?" "Looking for Merry, perhaps," laughed Paul Pierson. "He wants to look out, or he will get merry thunder," laughed Lewis Little. "He got that the last time," said Andy Emery. "Boys," said Danny Griswold, with sudden seriousness, "I believe there is something in the air." "What?" asked several. "Dust," chuckled Danny. "There's a high wind to-night." "Hit him quick!" cried Halliday. "Hit him hard!" "A-haw! a-haw! a-haw!" laughed Joe Gamp, a big, hulking fellow from New Hampshire. "Darned if that little runt ain't alwus doin' that. A-haw! a-haw! a-haw!" Gamp had a laugh that was infectious. He seldom burst into a hearty roar that every one in hearing did not roar also. On this occasion Dismal Jones was the only man who did not join in the laughter. Dismal sipped his hot toddy, and looked sad and reproachful. Mason was forgotten. Jokes and stories followed. Merriwell sang a song. The party showed no signs of breaking up, and Frank decided that he must get some sleep, so he reluctantly bade them good-night. "I'm going along," said Rattleton, rising. "Don't want us all to go to protect you from Mason and his gang, do you?" asked Puss Parker. "I think not," smiled Frank. "I am not afraid of Mason himself, and I hardly think he'll call on any of his friends to help him lick me. Good-night, fellows." "Good-night!" "Good-night, Merry!" "So long, old man!" "Good luck, Frank!" Any one hearing them bid him good-night would have known he was a very popular fellow. Every man there joined in the general chorus, and Frank went out laughing, his heart warm within his bosom. "A jolly lot of fellows, Rattles," he said, "and white men, every one of them." "Oh, they are jolly enough," admitted Harry; "but I hope you have not forgotten that almost every one of them turned his back on you when they fancied you were afraid of Rob Marline and did not dare play on the football team."