"That wouldn't be pleasant, you know." Julian Ives, in the perfumed sanctity of Chickering's rooms, often looked lovingly at himself and his wonderful bang in the long mirror and dreamed the heroic things he would like to do and the revenges he would like to carry out, but his actual courage had been at a very low ebb ever since his humiliating experience as a member of the Eskemo dog-team driven by the cowboy, Bill Higgins.

He was likely to remember that a long while.
"They're not worth talking about--none of Merriwell's crowd!" snarled Gene Skelding, as if anxious to change the drift of the unpleasant conversation, for he had been given cause to fear and hate Merriwell and his friends quite as much as any other individual who claimed the companionship and friendship of the immaculate Rupert.

"Let me see your gun, Willis!" He took the Greener, snapped it open to see if it was loaded, then winked at Chickering.
The members of the Yale Gun Club were rapidly coming on the ground, together with a number of noted New Haven shots and others interested in trap shooting.

Browning and Rattleton appeared, and Diamond, Dismal, and several others of Merry's set were seen approaching.
"I thought Bart Hodge was sick ?" said Tilton Hull.

"But I see he is out again." "When I heard he wath thick I hoped he would never get well.