rofound contempt. "Do
you call that sourkraut-barrel a gentleman? I'm surprised at you,
Frank!"

At this there was a burst of laughter, and Schlitzenheimer turned as red
as he had been pale a moment before.

"Vot vor did dot tog vanted to insult me?" he exclaimed indignantly. "I
dit not someding to him do!"

"Boxer, I'm surprised!" cried Frank. "You will get me into trouble with
your careless language. I insist that you apologize immediately to the
gentleman. I insist, sir!"

"Oh, very well," said the dog; "if you insist, I'll apologize. I was
joking, anyway."

"And I add my own apology, Mr. Schlitzenheimer," said Merry. "I hope
this will be sufficient?"

"Oh, yah, dot peen all righdt," said the Dutchman at once. "But py
dunder! der tickens id does peat to heard a tog dalking!"

"It's a good one on you, Fritz!" cried Benchy triumphantly. "Remember
your agreement! You're stuck!"

"Vale, I will stood py dot agreements," said the saloon-keeper, rather
reluctantly, "efen if in pusiness id does preak me up. Und I vill sdant
treat der crowdt vor. Sdep up, eferpody, und your trink name."

"That's the talk!" cried the dog. "You're not such a bad fellow,
Schlitzy."

Schlitzenheimer leaned on the bar with both hands and looked over at
Boxer.

"Vot will you haf yourseluf?" he asked.

"Excuse me," said the setter; "I'm on the water-wagon. Go ahead,
gentlemen, and don't mind me."

So they lined up in front of the bar, expressing their amazement over
the accomplishment of the dog and burdening Merriwell with questions,
all of which Frank cheerfully answered or skilfully evaded.

Boxer had been lifted and placed on one end of the bar, where he
immediately sat, surveying the line of men with his clear, intelligent
eyes.

"Hello, Mike!" he called to the Irishman. "When did you leave the Old
Dart?"

"It's goin' on three year now," answered the son of the Old Sod civilly;
"and me name's not Moike--it's Pat."

The dog seemed to wink shrewdly.

"It's all the same," he declared; "Mike or Pat makes no difference, as
long as your last n