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Frank Merriwell at Yale; Or, Freshman Against Freshman

<h2> CHAPTER II. </h2> <h3> CHALLENGED AND HAZED. </h3>  The voices were hushed, the feet halted in the hall, and then there was a sharp knock on the door. Before Harry could reach the door Frank called out: "Come in." Open flew the door, and there stood the tall, straight, dark-eyed Southerner, with half a dozen other fellows behind him. "Mr. Merriwell," said Diamond, stiffly, "I have called to see you on a very important matter, sir." "Walk right in," invited Frank, rising to receive them. "Bring your friends in. State your business, Mr. Diamond." The party came trooping in, and Frank was not a little astonished to observe among them Bruce Browning, a big, strong, lazy sophomore, a fellow who was known to be a great hand to plan deviltry which was usually carried into execution by his friends. As for Browning, he was not given to exerting himself when he could avoid it. That a soph should associate with a party of freshmen seemed but a little short of marvelous, and Frank instantly scented "a job." Believing he had been singled out for the party to "jolly," his blood was up in a moment, and he resolved to show them that he was not "easy." Jack Diamond drew himself up, his eyes fastened threateningly on Frank, and said: "Sir, you had the impudence to kick my dog, and when I remonstrated with you, you insulted me. I demand an apology before these gentlemen." Frank held himself in check; he appeared as cool as an iceberg. "Sir," he said, "your confounded dog spoiled a pair of ten-dollar trousers for me, and I demand another pair—or satisfaction." Harry Rattleton caught his breath. Was Merriwell crazy? He started forward, as if to intervene, but Diamond, his eyes blazing, motioned him back. "Very well, sir," said the Southerner, addressing Frank, "you shall have all the satisfaction you desire. Mr. Ditson will represent me." Roland Ditson pressed forward. He was a loud-voiced youth who wore loud clothes and sported a large amount of jewelry. "Name your second, Merriwell," he said in an authoritative way. "We want to settle this matter as soon as possible." Frank named Harry, and the seconds conferred together. Merriwell sat down and coolly awaited the result, with his hands in his pockets. Diamond drew aside, his friends gathering about him. Bruce Browning interested himself in what was passing between Rattleton and Ditson, and it was plain that he was urging them to do something. After a few minutes Harry approached Frank, a troubled look on his face. "It's an outrage!" he indignantly exclaimed. "Ditson insists that it be a degular ruel—I mean a regular duel with rapiers. He says you gave the challenge, and so Diamond has the right to name the weapons. Such a thing can't take place!" "Oh, yes, it can," said Frank, coolly. "Accept the proposition and have the affair come off as soon as possible." "But, Frank, think of it! I'll bet Diamond is an expert swordsman, and he's just the kind of a chap to lose his head and run you through the body! Why, it would be dimply serrible—I mean simply terrible!" "I'll have to fight him or take water. Now, Harry, old man, you don't want me to show the white feather, so go back and complete the arrangements." "But there ought to be some other way of settling it. If you could fight him with your fists I know you'd beat him, but you don't stand a show this way." Frank looked his roommate squarely in the eye. "Go back and accept every proposition Ditson makes," he commanded, and Rattleton felt the influence of Merriwell's superior will. Back he went, and it did not take the seconds long, with Bruce Browning's aid, to settle matters. Browning said he knew a nice quiet place where the duel could take place without danger of interruption, and in a short time the entire party was on the street, following the lead of the big sophomore. Harry was at Frank's side and he was greatly agitated. "If you are counting on Diamond backing down you'll be dadly—I mean sadly disappointed," he whispered. "That fellow doesn't know what it is to be afraid, and he'll stand up to the end." "Keep cool," directed Frank. "He'll find there are others." Harry gave up in despair. "This is a terrible affair!" he muttered to himself. "It's likely to mean arrest, disgrace, imprisonment for the whole of us, if those blamed hot-headed fools don't kill each other!" But he decided to stand by his roommate, no matter what came. Browning led them away from the vicinity of the college buildings and down a dark street. At length they came to an old brick structure, in which not a light was to be seen. Down some slippery stone steps they went, and the big soph let them in by unlocking a door. It was dark inside. Browning closed and locked the door, after which he conducted them along a narrow passage, opened another door, and ushered them into a room. The smell of cigarette smoke was strong there, and Frank knew the place had been lately occupied by smokers. A match spluttered, and then a lamp was lighted. "Get ready for business," directed Browning. "I will bring the rapiers and another light." Then he vanished beyond a door that opened into another dark room. Frank looked around and saw a table, upon which were cards and empty beer bottles. There were chairs and some copies of illustrated sporting papers. The walls were bare. It was warm down there, and Frank immediately discarded his coat. Diamond was about to follow Merriwell's example, when there was a sudden rush of feet and the room filled in a twinkling with masked youths, who flung themselves on the astonished freshmen and made all but Frank a prisoner in a moment. Frank instantly understood that they had been trapped and he knocked down four of his assailants before they could bear him to the floor and overpower him. His hands were securely bound, and then he was lifted to his feet. "Well, fellows, that was a pretty slick trick," he half laughed, as he coolly looked around. "You sophs have been trying to corral a gang of us for a week, and with the aid of the smooth Mr. Browning you succeeded very finely this time." "Silence!" roared a deep voice, and a tall fellow in a scarlet Mephisto rig confronted Frank. "You have intruded upon forbidden ground. None but the chosen may enter here and escape with life." "Not one!" chorused all the masks in deep and dismal unison. Mephisto made a signal. Once more the freshmen were seized. "Away with them!" shouted the fellow in red. In another moment all but Frank had been hustled out of the room. Then Frank was suddenly held fast and blindfolded. He was dragged along to some place where the opening of another door brought to his ears the sound of horns and shouts of fiendish glee. He was made to mount some stairs and then his feet were kicked from beneath him, and he shot down a steep and slippery incline into the very midst of the shouting demons. He dropped through space and landed—in a vat of ice-cold water. Then he was dragged out, thumped on the head with stuffed clubs, deafened by the horns that bellowed in his ears, and tossed in a blanket till his head bumped against the ceiling. Then he was forced to crawl through a piano box that was filled with sawdust. He was pushed and pulled and hammered and thumped till he was sore in every part of his body. All through this ordeal not a word or murmur escaped his lips. His teeth were set, and he felt that he had rather die than utter a sound that betrayed pain or agitation. This seemed to infuriate his assailants. They banged him about till he could scarcely stand, and then, of a sudden, there was a great hush, while a terrible voice croaked: "Bring forth the guillotine!" There was a bustle, and then the bandage was stripped from Frank's eyes, he was tripped up, and a second later found himself lying helpless with his neck in the socket of a mock guillotine. Above him was suspended a huge gleaming knife that seemed to tremble, as if about to fall. At his side was a fellow dressed in the somber garments of an executioner. It was really a severe strain upon his nerves, but still his teeth were clinched, and not a sound came from his lips. "The knife is broken," whispered the mock executioner in Frank's ear, "so it may accidentally fall and cut you." "Have you any last message, fresh?" hoarsely whispered the mock executioner. "There might be a fatal accident." Frank made no reply save to wink tauntingly at the fellow. The next instant, with a nerve-breaking swish, the shining blade fell! A piece of ice was drawn across Frank's throat and a stream of warm water squirted down his back. It was most horribly real and awful, and for a moment it seemed that the knife had actually done the frightful deed. Despite his wonderful nerve, Frank gasped; but he quickly saw that the knife had swung aside and his head was still attached to his body. Then he forced a derisive laugh from his lips, and seemed not the least disturbed, much to the disgust of the assembly. "Confound him!" growled a voice, which Frank fancied he recognized as belonging to Browning. "There's no fun in him. Let's try another." Then Frank was lifted to his feet and assisted to don his coat. "If you want to stay and see the fun, put on a mask," directed Mephisto. "You must not be recognized by the other freshies." He was given a mask and he put it on as directed. A moment later the masked youths began to howl and blow horns. A door opened, and Diamond, blindfolded and bound, was led into the room. The young Virginian stood up haughtily, and he was seen to strain and struggle in an effort to free his hands. "I protest against this outrage!" he cried, angrily. "I want you to know that my father—" The horns and the shouts drowned his words. He was forced to mount the steps to a high platform, and an instant later he found himself shooting down a slippery incline of planed and greased boards. The racket stopped as Diamond scooted down the slippery surface. He dropped sprawling into the vat of icy water. Several hands caught hold of him, yanked him up, and thrust him down again. "Oh, somebody shall suffer for this!" gurgled the helpless freshman, spluttering water from his mouth. He was dragged out of the vat, and then he was forced to endure all the hustling, and thumping, and banging which Frank Merriwell had passed through. His protests seemed to fall on deaf ears. It had been reported that Diamond had declared that the sophomores would not dare to haze him, as his father would make it hot for them if they did. The report was remembered, and he was used more severely than Frank had been. Hazing at Yale was said to be a thing of the past, but Frank saw it was still carried on secretly. "Make a speech, fresh!" shouted a voice. "Speech! speech!" yelled the masked lads. Diamond was placed on a low table. For a moment he hesitated, and then he fancied he saw his opportunity to make a protest that would be heard. "I will make a speech," he declared. "I'll tell you young ruffians what I think of you and what—" Swish! a sponge that was dripping with dirty water struck him square in the mouth. Some of the water went down his throat, and he choked and strangled. The table was jerked from beneath his feet, and he fell into the waiting arms of the masked sophomores. "He called us ruffians! Give it to him!" Then the unfortunate freshman was used worse than ever. He was tossed in a blanket, given a powerful shock of electricity, deafened by the horns, pounded with the stuffed clubs, and hustled till there was scarcely any breath left in his body. Then the bandage was torn from Diamond's eyes and he was confronted by the guillotine, over which fresh red ink had been liberally spattered. The blade of the huge knife was dripping in a gory manner, and it really looked as if it had just completed a deadly piece of work. Despite himself, the young Virginian shivered when his eyes rested on the apparently blood-stained blade. "Be careful!" some one distinctly whispered. "We do not want to kill more than one freshman in a night." Some one else spoke of the frightful manner in which the knife had cut Merriwell, and then, despite his feeble struggles, Diamond was placed upon the instrument of torture. "The other fresh died game," muttered the executioner. "Of course we didn't mean to kill him, but the knife is out of order and it slipped by accident. We haven't time to fix it properly, but there are only about nine chances out of ten that it will fall again." "Oh, you fellows shall pay for this!" feebly gasped Diamond. Despite himself, although he knew how unlikely such a thing was, he could not help wondering if a terrible accident had really happened. If not, where was Merriwell. He looked around, but saw nothing of Frank, who was keeping in the background. And then, when his nerves had been quite unstrung, the knife fell, the ice and warm water were applied, and Diamond could not choke back the cry of horror that forced itself from his lips. A roar of laughter broke from the masked students. When Diamond was lifted to his feet he was almost too weak to stand. He clinched his teeth, vowing over and over to himself that he would find a way to square accounts. "If it takes me a year, I'll find out who the leaders in this affair are, and they shall suffer for it!" he thought. "Give him a chance to see the others put through the mill," said Mephisto, and Diamond's hands were released. The Virginian looked around, seeming irresolute for a moment. Not far away he saw a masked lad whose clothes were wet and bedaubed with dirt and sawdust. In an instant Diamond sprang toward this person and snatched the mask from his face. "It's Merriwell!" he triumphantly shouted, "and he has helped to haze me! His career at Yale will be suddenly cut short!"       <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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