“No, you do not,” declared Frank; “for the power you have witnessed in demonstration to-night is something I seldom use. Only in desperate emergencies do I call it to my command. I hope I may never have to use it again.”

“If you save Defarge it will be a wonderful thing. I am going, Merriwell. Good night.”

Frank Merriwell's Strong Arm — Part 68

“Good night, Skelding. Here is the revolver belonging to Defarge. Take it away. I don’t want the thing.”

Frank Merriwell's Strong Arm — Part 68

Skelding took it. He hesitated a moment, tempted to offer in turn his hand to Merriwell, but did not do so. Again saying good night, he went out.

Frank Merriwell's Strong Arm — Part 68

The experiences of that night would never be forgotten by Skelding. At last he understood the full extent of his past folly in trying to down a man of such amazing magnetic and mesmeric influence, and he thanked his lucky stars that Merriwell had not been a revengeful foe.

It was a strange spectacle. The campus seemed almost as light as day. Two long lines of men in hoods and gowns entered from opposite sides and began their march, loudly singing their society songs.

It was the night of the initiations to the three junior societies, Delta Kappa Epsilon, Psi Upsilon, and Alpha Delta Phi. It was a strangely interesting sight, and crowds had gathered to witness it.

Slowly and with dignity the hooded and gowned members of the societies marched about the campus. This part of their doings was intended for the eyes of the public, but later things would happen within the solid walls of their society houses that the public had no hope of witnessing.

What were those things? Who can say? No candidate who has ever passed through the ordeal ever opens his lips to tell what happened to him. But certain it is that within those walls there was a merry old time that night, for it is there the local burlesque is given, and this has proved of spicy interest to the general public, being filtered to the outside world.

This year among the happy candidates were two of Merriwell’s friends. Jack Ready was one of them.

“La! la!” he said modestly, as he was congratulated. “Proclaim not the honor to the world. It will be a great privilege for the Four Hundred to catch me when I break away from Yale. Oh, I’m strictly the thing, and they can’t get along without me.”