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him into a duel with rapiers.

      To Frank it had seemed that the Virginian had no hesitation in taking advantage of an enemy, for Diamond must have presumed that Merriwell knew nothing of the art of fencing and swordplay.

      But for this belief, Merriwell would have been inclined to keep on and tire his enemy out, without striking a single blow that could leave a mark.

      But when Frank came to consider everything, he decided that it was no more than fair that he should give his persistent foe a certain amount of punishment.

      Again and again Frank cross countered and upper-cut Diamond, and gradually he came to strike harder as the Virginian forced the fighting, without showing signs of letting up.

      Bruises and swellings began to appear on Diamond's face. On one cheek Merriwell's knuckles cut through the skin, and the blood began to run, creeping down to his chin and dropping on the bosom of his white shirt.

      Still, from the determination and fury with which he fought, it seemed that Diamond was utterly unconscious that he had been struck at all.

      Jack did not consider how he had led Frank into a duel with rapiers without knowing whether the fellow he hated had ever taken a fencing lesson in all his life.

      His one thought was that, being an expert boxer himself, Merriwell had forced him to a fist fight, believing it would be easy to dispose of him that way.

      Diamond's hatred of Frank made him blind to the fact that he was in the least to blame, and filled him with a passionate belief that he could kill the smiling Northerner without a qualm of conscience—without a pang of remorse.

      At last, disgusted with his non-success in striking Frank at all, he sprang forward suddenly and grappled with him.

      Frank had been on the watch for that move.

      Then the boys saw a pretty struggle for a moment, ending with Diamond being lifted and dropped heavily, squarely on his back.

      Merriwell came down heavily on his persistent enemy.

      Frank fell on Jack with the hope of knocking the wind out of the fellow and thus bringing the fight to a close.

      For a few moments it seemed that he had succeeded.

      Frank sprang up lightly, just as Tad Horner grappled him by the hair with both hands and yelled: "Break away!"

      Roland Ditson was at Diamond's side in a twinkling.

      "Come, come, old man!" he whispered; "get up and get into the game again! Don't let them count you out!"

      But the Virginian was gasping for breath, and he did not seem to hear the words of his second.

      "That settles it," said Puss Parker, promptly.

      "Better wait and see," advised Bruce Browning. "Diamond may not give up when he gets his breath."

      "It doesn't look as if he'd ever get his breath again."

      Harry Rattleton was at Frank's side, swiftly saying:

      "Why didn't you knock him out and show the fellows what you can do? You monkeyed with the goat too long. He's stuffy, and you had to settle him sometime. It didn't make a dit of bifference whether it was first or last."

      "That's all right," smiled Frank. "He's got sand, and I hated to nail him hard. It seemed a shame to thump such a fellow and cover his face with decorations."

      "Shame? shame?" spluttered Harry. "Why, didn't he force you into a duel with rapiers, or try to? and he is an expert! Say, what's the matter with you? If I'd been in your place I'd gone into him tooth and nail, and I wouldn't have left him in the shape of anything. Have you got a soft spot around you somewhere, Merriwell?"

      "I admire sand, even if it is in an enemy."

      "You take the cherry pie—yes, you take the whole bakery!"

      Harry gazed at his roommate in wonder that was not entirely unmingled with pity and disgust. He could not understand Merriwell, and such generosity toward a persistent foe on the part of Frank seemed like weakness.

      In the meantime Ditson had been urging Diamond to get up.

      "They'll call the scrap finished if you don't get onto your pins in a jiffy," he warned. "Horner's got his watch in his hand."

      Still the Virginian gasped for breath and seemed unable to lift a hand. If ever a fellow seemed done up, it was Diamond just then.

      Roll Ditson ground his teeth in despair.

      "Oh, Merriwell will think he is cock of the walk now!" he muttered. "He'll crow and strut! He's laughing over it now!"

      "Wh-what's that?" gasped Diamond, trying to sit up.

      "He is laughing at you," hurriedly whispered Ditson, lying glibly. "I just heard him tell Rattleton that he could have knocked the stuffing out of you in less than a quarter of a minute. He says you'll never dare face him again."

      "Oh, he does! oh, he does!" came huskily from Diamond's lips. "Well, we'll see about that—we'll see!"

      With Ditson's aid he got upon his feet. Then his breath and his strength seemed to come to him in a twinkling. With a backward snap of his arm he flung his second away. Then uttering a hoarse cry, he rushed like a mad bull at the lad he hated.

      CHAPTER V.

       THE FINISH.

       Table of Contents

      Diamond's recovery and the manner in which he resumed the fight caused general astonishment. Even Bruce Browning had come to think that the Virginian was "out."

      Frank was taken by surprise. Before he could square away to meet his foe, Diamond struck him a terrific blow near the temple, knocking him into Rattleton's arms.

      "Foul!" cried Harry, excitedly. "Horner hadn't given the word."

      "Foul! foul!" came from all sides.

      "There is no foul in this fight save when something is used besides fists," declared Merriwell as he staggered from his roommate's arms. "It's all right and it goes."

      But he found that everything seemed swimming around him, and dark spots were pursuing each other before his eyes. The floor seemed to heave like the deck of a ship at sea. He put out his hand to grasp something, and then he was struck again.

      Once more Rattleton's arms kept Frank from going down.

      "This is no square deal!" Harry shouted. "By the poly hoker—I mean the holy poker! I'll take a hand in this myself!"

      He would have released Merriwell and jumped into the ring, but Frank's strong fingers closed on his arm.

      "Steady, old man!" came sharply from Merriwell's lips. "I am in this yet awhile. If Diamond finishes me he is to be let alone. The fellow that lays a hand on him is no friend of mine!"

      "You give me cramps!" groaned Harry.

      Instead of aiding in finishing Frank, Diamond's second blow seemed to straighten him up, as if it had cleared a fog from his brain. The spots disappeared before his eyes and things ceased to swim around him.

      Into the ring to meet his foe sprang Frank, and, to the astonishment of everybody he still smiled.

      At the same time, Merriwell knew he had toyed with Diamond too long. He realized that the Virginian's first blow had come within a hair of knocking him out, and he could still hear a faint, ringing and roaring in his head.

      Frank saw that the only way he could end the fight was to finish his unrelenting and persistent foe.

      Diamond fought like an infuriated tiger. Again and again Frank's fist cracked on his face, and still he did not falter, but continued to stand up and "take his medicine."

      In less than a minute the Virginian was bleeding at the nose, and

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