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Frank Merriwell at Yale; Or, Freshman Against Freshman

<h2> CHAPTER XXV. </h2> <h3> THE TRAITOR DISCOVERED. </h3>  "I say, Merry," said Rattleton, the day before the race was to come off, "you can't guess who Gordon is chumming with lately." "I don't know as I can. Who is it?" "Ditson." "Get out!" "That's on the level." "But Ditson the same as suggested outright that Gordon was the traitor who had told the sophs so much." "That is true, but Gordon doesn't know it." "Well, he ought to. What do you think Ditson is doing?" "Oh, he is working Gordon, who has been drinking like a fish since Old Put dropped him." Frank was troubled. He did not approve of Ditson, and he feared that Gordon had a weak nature, so that he could be easily influenced. Walter had greatly taken to heart being dropped by Putnam, and he seemed utterly reckless and careless about himself. If he did not look out, he was almost sure to get into trouble and find himself "rusticated" or sent home for good. Merriwell could not help thinking it possible that Gordon had been innocent and that a mistake had been made in dropping him, as it might discourage him so that he would go to the bad. This worried Frank not a little. "I'll have to make Ditson call a halt," he said to Harry. "He must be told to let up on Gordon." "Now, that is dead right," nodded Harry, who was inclined to be generous and kindly toward the fellow who might have filled his place on the freshman crew. "I tell you that Ditson is a bad man, and I would not trust him as far as I can fling a cow by the tail." "I'll get after him at the first opportunity," promised Frank. Harry went out and had a talk with Bandy Robinson about the matter. Robinson admitted that he did not have much use for either Gordon or Ditson, but he was inclined to think Gordon the better fellow of the two. That night Merriwell and Rattleton retired early, but they were not allowed to go to sleep. Barely were they in bed before there was a knock on the door, and they found Robinson and one of the fellows who lived in the house were there. "Say," said Bandy, "Ditson and Gordon are down at Billy's, and Gordon has a great load on. I have told Ditson to let him alone, but was advised to mind my own business. Ditson is deliberately getting Gordon stiff." "Is that so?" cried Frank as he made a jump for his clothes. "Well, I think I will have a talk with Mr. Ditson." Frank and Harry dressed quickly, and away they went with Robinson and his companion toward Billy's. On arriving at Billy's they were told that Ditson and Gordon were in the little corner behind the screen. Gordon was opening champagne, and both fellows were pretty well intoxicated. Harry slipped up behind the screen, stood on a chair, and peered over. As he did so he heard Ditson say: "That's right, Walter. Merriwell rubbed dirt all over you. He is trying to become another king, like Browning, but you can bet I don't lose any opportunity to throw him down." "Throw him down! throw him down!" echoed Gordon, thickly. "That's right; but you can't throw him down hard enough to keep him down." "I don't know about that," declared Roll, with drunken sobriety. "If we were to work together, Gordon, old man, we could hurt him. As it is, you've helped me out wonderfully in what I've done." "Have I? How?" Harry looked around and saw Merriwell preparing to go into the corner behind the screen. Then Rattleton made a few violent gestures, which plainly told his roommate to refrain. Frank looked astonished. What could Harry be up to that he appeared so excited? He was motioning for Frank to come forward cautiously and join him. Now, Merriwell did not believe in playing the eavesdropper on any one, but he fancied Harry saw something he wished to show him, so he went forward lightly, placed another chair, got upon it, and looked over the screen. In the meantime Ditson was saying: "Yes, you've helped me. You know Merriwell is coaching the freshman crew—or has been—for the race to-morrow. Well, I don't let any chance go to get a jab at him." "I don't see what that has to do with my helping you," mumbled Gordon, vainly trying to light a cigarette with a broken match on which no brimstone was left. "Course yer don't," laughed Ditson, who was almost as full as his companion. "This isn't the first time we have been out together, eh, old boy?" "No." "Only we had to be quiet about it when you were on the crew—or when you thought you were on it." "That's right." "We have been pretty full once or twice." "I thought so when we got up the next morning." "Well, you have told me lots of things about Merriwell and what he was doing with the crew. You're a great talker when you're loaded." Gordon stiffened up a bit and tried to give his companion a sober stare, but the effort was a ludicrous failure. "Wazzyer mean?" he asked. "'Fi told you anything it was in strictest confidence." "Cert; but then, you know, anything to knife Merriwell." Gordon braced off, his hands on the table before him. Ditson laughed and went on: "Now, if we make a combine against him we can do him bad." "Wazzyer mean?" Gordon again demanded. "Mean that you repeated anything I tol' you in confidence when I was full?" "Not publicly," grinned Ditson. "I may have used it to injure Merriwell, but I was careful how I used it." Walter thumped the table with his fist, growing angry suddenly. "You're a hanged two-faced fraud!" he huskily cried. "That's jusht what you are, Ditson! Somebody's been telling things to the sophs. They found out everything. It was you! And you pumped your points out of me when I was full." "That didn't hurt you," Ditson hastened to declare. "It was entirely to hurt Merriwell, and he is our common enemy." "Don't care a continental if he is!" cried Walter. "I don't like him, but you have hurt me. Bet anything Merriwell and Old Put thought I had blowed! I didn't have any confidence in Merriwell's methods, but I didn't blow to the sophs! Still I was to blame for lettin' you get me full and pump me. And the fellows think I'm a tattler! Well, I'll be hanged if I don't even up with you by hammering the face off you right now!" Walter stood up and attempted to grasp Ditson's arm, but he was so full that he made a miscalculation and caught nothing but empty air. Then he struck across the table at Roll. "Oh, you would hit me, would you!" grated Ditson, who saw that his companion was much the drunker. "You would hammer my face! Well, perhaps I'll do some hammering myself!" Then he caught up an empty champagne bottle and swung it over his head as if to strike Gordon. Like a flash Merriwell's hand darted down over the top of the screen and snatched the bottle from Roll's grasp. A moment later Frank went around the screen and confronted the two lads, still holding the bottle in his hand. "I saved you from having a cracked head that time, Gordon," he said as he collared Ditson. "And I have found out who the traitor is. I am glad you are not the man. As for this thing"—he gave Ditson a shake that caused the fellow's teeth to click together—"he has shown to-night that he is a most contemptible cur! I hated to think him as dirty as he has shown himself to be." Frank's face was full of unutterable disgust for Ditson. Other freshmen came crowding into the corner, and Ditson saw himself regarded with scorn and contempt by everybody. He cowed like a whipped cur and whined: "I was simply fooling; it was all a jolly. I never did anything of the sort. I was simply trying to get Gordon on the string by telling him so." "Well, you got yourself on a string, and pretty well tangled up. Gentlemen"—turning to the freshmen present—"here is the traitor who has been giving our secrets away to the sophs. Both Rattleton and myself heard him acknowledge it. Take a good look at him, so you will know him in the future." "Oh, we'll know him!" cried many voices. "It's a mistake—" Roll began. "That's right," agreed Frank. "The worst mistake you ever made. At last you have shown just what you are, and everybody is dead onto you. Get out of this!" "Tar and feather him!" shouted a voice. "Let him go," advised Merriwell. "He is covered with a coating of disgrace that will not come off as easily as tar and feathers." Ditson sneaked away, the hisses of his classmates sounding in his ears. The look on his face as he rolled his eyes toward Merriwell before leaving the room was malicious in the extreme. Frank turned to Walter, who did not seem to know what to do. "Gordon, you have found that fellow out, which is a lucky thing for you," he said. "He would have ruined you. At the same time, I have found out that you had no hand in the sneaking work that has been going on of late. You were simply an unconscious and unwilling tool, and it did me good to see you resent it when you found out what Ditson had been doing." Walter tried to say something, but he choked and stammered. Then he muttered something about having a drink all around, but Frank assured him that he had taken quite enough. Rattleton and Robinson led the crowd away from the corner, and Merriwell had a brief talk with Gordon, Then Harry and Frank took Gordon out and did not leave him till he was safely in his room. As they were going away Walter thickly said: "Merriwell!" "What is it?" "I want to 'pologize." "What for?" "Things I've said 'bout you." "I don't know about them." "'Cause I've said 'em behind your back. Sneakin' thing to do! Merriwell, I'm 'shamed—I am, by thunder! I guess you're all right. Don't b'lieve you ever done me dirt. Is it all right, old man?" "Yes, it's all right." "Say, that makes me feel better. It does, by thunder! You're a good fellow, Merriwell, and I'm—I'm a fool! I talk too much! Drink too much, too. You don't talk and you don't drink. You're all right. Good-night, Merriwell." "Good-night, Gordon." When Frank retired the second time that night it was with a feeling of intense relief, for the perplexing problem as to the identity of the traitor had been settled, and he felt that he had done Gordon a good turn by getting him away from Ditson. And Ditson? Well, he deserved to pass a wretched night, and he did. He felt that he was forever disgraced at Yale, but he did not seem to consider it his own fault. He blamed Merriwell for it all, and his heart was hot with almost murderous rage. Over and over he swore that he would get square some way—any way.       <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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