Why, what----"
He got up from the table and began to walk back and forth like a caged
tiger. He was sure that some enemy had struck at him in this way.
Suddenly he halted, and the pupils of his eyes contracted.
"Ah!" he snarled. "I reckon that was the work of Don Pike. He said he'd
strike me in a way that would be worse than if he hit me with his fist,
and this is what he meant! Well, I'll settle with you, Pike, for that,
and don't you ever forget it! You won't forget, either, I allow, when
I'm through with you. That's whatever!"
He crumpled up the note, hastily stuck it into a pocket, jammed his hat
on his head, and left his room hurriedly, locking the door. He did not
stop in the campus. It was filled with Yale fellows, and the fence in
front of Durfee Hall was crowded. He saw here and there men whom he knew
well, and who nodded to him. He hardly took time to return the
greetings.
"What's the matter with Badger now?" rumbled Browning. "He is charging
along like a blind bull at a fence."
"Why do you ever notice what the fellow does at all?" Bart Hodge
grumbled.
"Well, even cranks are interesting," said Dismal Jones, also looking
curiously after Badger.
"Curiosities likewise," remarked Danny Griswold, puffing at his
cigarette. "And since our dear Merry has just about adopted this wild
bull from the plain, my interest in him as a curiosity has increased.
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