"You need it.

It's hopeless, though, to expect that the hornets will sting any sense into your crowd." Merriwell started toward the screeching, dancing, jigging, fighting youths, quickening his steps into a run, and his friends followed at his heels.

As he did so he heard the loud and discordant jangle of a cowbell furiously shaken.
A man, a woman, and a boy had come in sight, appearing from behind the seats allotted to spectators.

Evidently they had emerged but a minute before from a strip of timber that cut off the view of a farmhouse that was on the right of the gun club grounds and some distance away.

They were running as fast as they could, and were shouting something as they came on.