Burt L Standish

Dick Merriwell's Fighting Chance Burt L Standish

The comfortable sitting room in Durfee Hall, occupied by Dick Merriwell and his Texas chum, Brad Buckhart, was filled to overflowing. Sprawling among the cushions of the divan was Rudolph Rose, handsome, high-spirited, and rather quick-tempered, but happy in the knowledge that he had at last conquered the latter failing and thereby won a place in Merriwell's friendship. Close beside him was Terry Baxter, quiet, almost too serious, but with a keen sense of humor which showed in the appreciative gleam in his brown eyes and the occasional terse, pithy remarks which he uttered in a solemn manner, but which invariably sent the others into an uproar. Eric Fitzgerald, slim, slight, and curly haired, dangled his legs from one end of the table. He was so full of vim and life and go that he reminded one of a particle of quicksilver, forever on the move; and on the rare occasions when he did settle down for a moment, he usually perched himself somewhere in a temporary manner, as if he were only pausing for an instant before making another flight.