“Gone bughouse,” intimated another. “Who is he?” “Don’t know. Saw him with that pretty girl who ran out on the field when Merriwell was hurt.” “Don’t know. Saw him with that pretty girl who ran out on the field when Merriwell was hurt.” “He’s a Fardale boy?” “He’s a Fardale boy?” “Yes.” “Yes.” “Must be crazy with joy. Can’t blame him after seeing his team win in that way.” “Must be crazy with joy. Can’t blame him after seeing his team win in that way.” Chester crawled under the rail and bumped against a man. Chester crawled under the rail and bumped against a man. “Get out of the way, you old fool!” he snarled. “Get out of the way, you old fool!” he snarled. “Who are you talking to?” demanded the man, in astonishment and anger. “Who are you calling an old fool?” “Who are you talking to?” demanded the man, in astonishment and anger. “Who are you calling an old fool?” “You! you! you! You ran into me—me, son of D. Roscoe Arlington! Do you hear?” “You! you! you! You ran into me—me, son of D. Roscoe Arlington! Do you hear?” “You’re a crazy ass!” said the man, and walked on. “You’re a crazy ass!” said the man, and walked on. Somehow those words seemed to bring Chester to his senses in a measure.
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