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CHAPTER VIII. GETTING DOWN TO WORK.
 Merriwell drew out the letter and sank into a chair. While Billy listened, he read over that portion of the letter referring to the request for a loan. Chip read as follows: “I sympathize very deeply with both Billy and his mother, Frank, and I would be glad to have you read this to Billy, and assure him of my best regards and wishes. As to lending you the money, however, I do not think that this would be wise, for several reasons.
“The first and most important is that it seems to me to be a poor way in which to checkmate a scoundrel like this Colonel Carson. I have made inquiries about him, and find that he had a reputation as a plunger on ball games, and is wrapped up in the success of his own team.
“I think you have done well in raising a team to defeat the Clippers, as intimated in your wire to Clancy. I was going to suggest that very thing. If you and Billy can beat his club, it would be an ideal way in which to punish him. I only wish that more of the Fardale boys were here, so that they could come down and help, but vacation has scattered them.”
“That’s all very well,” interrupted Billy mournfully, “but licking the Clippers isn’t going to save this house for mother, Chip. I wish—I wish we’d taken a chance on it, and taken up that bet he offered!”
[68]
“No, you don’t,” exclaimed Merriwell. “Hold on, Billy. I haven’t finished yet.”
“Go ahead and whip Carson’s team, Frank. You and Billy and Clancy can do it if you try, and remember that I’ve every faith in all of you. Do it, and I will see that Billy and his mother do not lose the roof over their heads.
Your loving father,
Frank Merriwell, Senior.”
Merry looked up to meet his friend’s startled gaze.
“What does he mean by that, Chip?”
“Search me,” said Merry, as he stowed away the letter. “But you can be sure that father means something, all right.”
“I guess he does,” rejoined Billy, new hope dawning in his eyes. “My eyes! It’s a promise, Chip! I’ll bet he means that if we beat the Clippers he’ll lend you the coin!”
“No,” and young Merriwell shook his head decidedly. “He doesn’t think it a good plan, old man, and that ends it. Father doesn’t have to say a thing twice. Yes, it’s a promise, I imagine. I’ve no idea what he means by it, of course, but he has some kind of plan up his sleeve. You quit worrying.”
“I’ll try,” said Billy, with a sigh. “But I wish he’d said something a little more definite than that.”
“So do I, Billy,” confessed Merry. “He didn’t, so there’s no use wondering. I’m not going to[69] say anything to Clan about this business, so now let’s go around to Jim’s house with him, then we’ll get out to the ball field again.”
Merriwell decided that the McQuades’ trouble was a personal affair. He had entered into it largely through accident, and he did not consider it a matter to share even with Clancy. So all three of the friends piled into the Hornet, Billy standing on the running board, and they made a triumphal progress to the Spaulding residence.
Despite his unbounded confidence in his father, Chip could not help feeling disappointed over that letter. However, the definite promise at the end served to relieve his anxiety, to some extent, but he could see no light upon the subject. How could his father prevent Colonel Carson from carrying out his threats?
As he obtained no answer to this mental query, Merriwell tried to forget the whole thing, and trust that his father knew best. But it was no easy matter.
That afternoon they met the other Clippings on the village green, going from there to their practice ground. Chub Newton had been given a vacation until Saturday night, and his employer had promised that if the Clippers were beaten, Chub would get full pay.
In fact, the entire town was already plunged into excitement over the sudden contest. Public disapproval of Bully Carson had long simmered[70] beneath the surface, kept under cover by the influence and general fear of Colonel Carson.
It was not yet daring enough to show itself openly, but it peeped forth in minor ways. Every one knew that Billy McQuade, prompted by his guest from Fardale, Chip Merriwell, had dared to defy Colonel Carson. Also, that half a dozen of the town’s best local baseball talent had joined the two friends.
Consequently, the grocer’s son, who was taking Chub Newton’s place behind the counter temporarily, ran out with a bag of apples and deposited them mysteriously on the ground by the astonished Clippings. A little later, as they passed the one ice-cream parlor in the place, the proprietor appeared suddenly and thrust a paper bucket of ice cream into Spaulding’s hand, then vanished without a word.
By such tokens as these, Frank and his friends soon discovered that they were not without secret good wishers, though none of the latter dared come into the open.
“Talk about a scared town!” laughed Clancy, munching an apple vigorously. “Looks like your friend Carson had this place buffaloed for sure, Chip!”
“Well, there’s good reason for it,” explained Spaulding. “The colonel owns the bank here, and pretty near half the farms and orchards around. If he said to smash a merchant, that[71] merchant would be apt to smash. I know, because he’s done it before this, and he’d do it again.”
“It’s a pretty poor kind of influence t............
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