Frank Merriwell at Yale - Part 38
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Part 38

"That's right; but in a case like this--confidentially--to us, you know--"

"Well, if I say anything, it is to be strictly confidential."

"Sure!" cried Frank and Harry in a breath.

"You both give me your word for it?"

"We do."

"If I knew, I would not hesitate to come out openly and accuse the fellow," said Dismal; "but this is merely a case of suspicion, and I will tell you who I suspect."

"Go ahead."

"Well, there is a certain fellow who has not been above playing into the hands of the sophs in the past, and it is natural for me to suspect him.

His name is--"

The door opened, and Roland Ditson came in without knocking.

CHAPTER XIX.

WHO IS THE TRAITOR?

"h.e.l.lo, fellows!" cried Ditson. "How are yer, Jones! I am surprised to see you here. Is it possible you have let up cramming long enough to make a call? Why, I have even heard that you had your eye on some cla.s.sical scholarship prize as soon as this. Everybody who knows you says you're a regular hard-working old dig."

"There are fools who know other people's business a great deal better than their own," said Dismal stiffly.

"That's right," nodded Ditson, who made a great effort to be rakish in his appearance, but always appeared rather foxy instead. "But I tell you this matter of burning the midnight oil and grinding is not what it's cracked up to be. It makes a man old before his time, and it doesn't amount to much after he has been all through it. Goodness knows we freshmen have to cram hard enough to get through! I am tired of it already. And then we have to live outside the pale, as it were. When we become sophs we'll be able to give up boarding houses and live in the dormitories. That's what I am anxious for."

"It strikes me that you are very partial to sophs," said Dismal, giving Roll a piercing look.

Ditson was not fazed.

"They're a rather clever gang of fellows," he said. "Freshmen are very new, as a rule. Of course there are exceptions, and--"

"I suppose you consider yourself one?"

"Oh, I can't tell about that. But supposing I am; by the time I become a soph some of the newness will have worn off."

"I am not particularly impressed with any freshman who seems to think so much of soph.o.m.ores. You ought to stay with them all the time."

"Oh, I don't know. They have treated me rather well, and I have found the most of them easy people."

"They seem to have found some freshman easy fruit. Somebody has been blowing to them about our crew."

"I know it," was Ditson's surprising confession, "and that's why I dropped in here. I wanted to tell Merriwell about it."

Jones gasped for breath. He was too surprised to speak for some minutes.

Ditson took out a package of cigarettes, offering them first to Harry, who shook his head.

"What?" cried Roll, amazed. "You won't smoke?"

"No."

"What's that mean?"

"I have left off," said Harry, with an effort.

"Left off? Oh, say! that's too good! You leave off!"

A bit of color came to Rattleton's face, and he gave Ditson a look that was not exactly pleasant; but Roll was too occupied with his merriment to observe it.

Frank was studying Ditson. He watched the fellow's every movement and expression.

Roll knew it was useless to offer cigarettes to Merriwell or Jones, so he selected one from the package, kneaded it daintily, pulled a little tobacco from the ends, moistened the paper with his lips, and then lighted it with a wax match.

"Say, Harry, old man, I pity you," he said, with a taunting laugh, looking at Harry. "I've tried it. It's no use. You'll break over before two days are up--yes, before one day is up. It's no use."

Rattleton bit his lips.

"Why, you are dying for a whiff now!" chuckled Ditson. "I know you are.

I got along a whole day, but it was a day of the most intense torture."

"There may be others with more stamina than you, Ditson," snapped Rattleton. "Just because you couldn't leave off a bad habit, it's no sign that n.o.body can."

"Oh, I suppose not. But what's the use? Don't get hot, old man. You ought to know my way by this time."

"I do."

"What is it that you came to tell me?" asked Frank.

"Eh? Oh, about the sophs. Those fellows seem to know more about our crew than I do."

"What do they know?"

"Why, they know our men are using English oars, have adopted a new stroke, and have done several other things. Now, those are matters on which I was not informed myself."

"How do you know the sophs know so much?"

"I've just come from Morey's. Went in there with Cressy. Fine fellow, he is. While I was in there Browning and his crowd wandered in. They were drinking ale and discussing the race. I heard what they were saying.

Couldn't help hearing, you know. They were talking about our crew and the new methods you had introduced. It was mighty interesting to me, as I didn't know about those new methods myself."

"How innocent!" muttered Jones.