"
"Oh, it's all right!" the Westerner admitted, though his face colored.
"I used to be a dog when I boozed round, and that's what Fairfax Lee has
against me now, of course. He thinks I am the same. But I've sworn off
on the stuff, and you know it."
"I'll have a talk with the girls, and well see then how the land lays,
and what can be done."
"It will be a favor--the biggest favor, I reckon, that any man ever
received."
A number of voices were shooting Merriwell's name in the campus.
"You'll have to go, I allow," said the Westerner, gripping Merriwell's
hand. "But the first news you get send it to me. Don't stop for expense,
or anything else. Send it along--cab, telephone, telegraph, special
messenger, or a dozen, if there's danger one may not reach me--anything,
just so you whoop the news to me. I'll be walking barefooted on cactus
spines every minute from now until you make some kind of a report."
Merriwell returned to the campus, where Yale tradition was gathering the
members of the junior class back of the fence, near Durfee Hall.
The ceremony of "slapping" is peculiar in many respects. No official
announcement is made of the fact that this formal and queer manner of
announcing elections to the senior societies is enacted. No announcement
of the coming event is given to the public.
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