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Standish, Burt L., [pseud.]

"Frank Merriwell's Reward"


"They're kuk-kuk-kicking up an awful dud-dud-dud-dust!" stuttered Gamp,
pushing forward for a better view.
"Dust assume to crowd in front of me, base varlet?" questioned Bruce.
"I'll forgive you if you'll just take off your tall head and hold it
under your arm!"
"I s'pose naow you think that's a joke!" said Gamp.
"It's more than a dust, fellows," said Merriwell. "There is a fight on!"
Certain of the sophomores had bunched together under one of the elms,
and seemed to be struggling, as if in a contest.
"It looks as though they might be playing football," suggested Elsie.
Winnie Lee leaned anxiously out of the window, for in the center of that
knot she had seen Buck Badger. She had eagerly searched for him in the
procession, and had but found him when that indication of a wrangle came
to disturb her.
The procession seemed to be breaking up and concentrating beneath and
around the elm where that struggle was taking place. Far in front a
number of students were bellowing their "Omega Lambda Chi," but the
others had ceased to sing.
"See how great a matter a little fire kindleth!" said Dismal.
And Dismal was right. The beginning of that scramble was trivial enough.
But the trouble which it kindled was destined to outlive the moment and
seriously affect the life and fortunes of at least one of the
participants.


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