LITMIR.BIZ

      CHAPTER XLV.

       ANOTHER KIND OF A FIGHT.

       Table of Contents

      It had already grown quite dark.

      The fun for the time being was over, but there was an engagement of quite a different nature to take place.

      Barely had the Dutch boy disappeared, with the Vermonter at his heels, when Frank and several others of the party slipped away into the shadows and made for Black Bluff.

      Bascomb and a large number of his friends were waiting when Frank arrived, and Merriwell heard the big fellow sneeringly observe:

      "He has really come at last! I didn't know but he was going to take water. I was afraid I'd lose the satisfaction of giving him the licking he needs."

      Frank bit his lip, and remained silent.

      Bart Hodge was on hand, and he was quickly at Frank's side.

      "Where have you been?" he asked. "I was beginning to fear Bascomb had put up some kind of a job to keep you away, so he could claim you were afraid to meet him."

      "I have been acting as second in another affair," said Frank. "I want you to represent me in this. Will you?"

      "You have no need to ask that, for you must know that it will give me pleasure. I want to see you give that big brute the drubbing he merits, so he will keep still for a while. He has been trying to injure you ever since you entered the academy, and he has said here to-night that he proposed doing me up to square an old score after he had finished you. I tried to get him to take me first, for I told him there wouldn't be anything left for me to fight when you were through with him. He said he was going to polish you off easily, and he has been whispering and laughing with that sneaking Reynolds. Somehow, I feel as if they have put up some kind of a job to get the best of you, and that is why they feel so well. You want to be on your guard for tricks, old man."

      "I will," assured Frank, as he began to "peel" for the fight. "Go over and make arrangements with Reynolds. If you can get him to agree to make it a go-as-you-please till the best man whips you will suit me."

      "All right; I'll stand for that."

      Away went Hodge to consult with Reynolds, and Frank did not dream that he had proposed just the kind of a fight that Bascomb and his second most desired.

      The wind was coming in across the bay, and the sea was moaning at the ragged base of Black Bluff, on the heights of which the fight was to take place. There were scudding clouds in the sky, but the night did not promise to be very dark.

      It did not take Hodge long to complete arrangements with Reynolds, and he soon returned to inform Frank that it was to be one straight fight from start to finish, with no rests till one or the other whipped.

      Frank had not supposed there would be near so many spectators present, and he well knew that the most of those assembled were fellows who were secretly envious of him because of his popularity, although nearly all had made protestations of friendship in the past.

      Frank did not care for the friendship of such fellows, as there was nothing in the world he despised more than a hypocrite. He could respect a foe who was open and frank; but he had no use for anybody who wore two faces.

      Fred Davis had not been told where the fight was to take place; but he had scented it in some way, and he came panting to the spot, just as Merriwell and Bascomb were about to meet. He rushed straight to Frank, exclaiming:

      "You must not fight on my account! You shall not! You haven't any right to do it! This must stop!"

      "Here, Bart," said Merriwell to Hodge, speaking quietly and firmly, "turn this boy over to Mulloy, and tell him to keep Davis from making any fuss."

      "But you must listen to me!" cried the little plebe, on the verge of tears. "People sometimes get killed in fights. If you are badly hurt, I'll never forgive myself. Can't I do something to stop it? Why, I will apologize to Bascomb, and——"

      "That would simply place you more in contempt, and would not let me out in the least, boy. Take him away, Mulloy," Frank spoke to the Irish lad, who was now at hand. "See that he doesn't get into trouble."

      Seeing it was impossible to put an end to the contest, Fred gave up in despair.

      Merriwell and Bascomb now faced each other. There was no demand that they should shake hands, and neither offered to do so. The boys formed a circle around them, and, at the word, they leaped at each other and the fray had begun.

      Bascomb made an effort to clinch immediately, but Frank landed two blows that sent him staggering. This was an advantage which Merriwell followed up, and Bascomb was forced to keep falling back for some moments, shifting the battle-ground considerably from the point where the struggle began.

      Spat! spat! spat! sounded the blows; but it was not always an easy thing to tell who was getting the worst of it.

      To and fro, forward and back, moved the fighting lads, their movements being breathlessly followed by the spectators. Sometimes it would seem that one of the lads had the advantage, and then it would appear to be the other.

      With his hands clasped together and his heart beating wildly, Fred Davis strained his eyes to see it all. To him every moment seemed an hour of acute agony and suspense.

      Bart Hodge and Barney Mulloy were both intensely interested and excited, but neither of them entertained a doubt but what, barring accident, Frank would come forth the victor.

      The breathing of the fighting boys became short and loud, and Bascomb occasionally muttered fierce words. Merriwell fought silently and fiercely.

      At length the tigerish determination of Bascomb's foe began to drive the big fellow back again. Several times he clinched Frank, but his hold was quickly broken on each occasion. Three times both went down; but the strength of neither seemed sufficient to get the advantage and hold the other.

      At length, as they were apparently on the point of grappling again, Bascomb was seen to make a quick move of one hand, and Frank immediately cried:

      "My eyes! Oh, I am blinded! They are burning!"

      Instantly there was the greatest excitement.

      "Foul play, by the eternal skies!" shouted Bart Hodge, leaping forward. Instantly someone gave him a blow that sent him reeling.

      "Howld on, ye imps!" roared Barney. "Ye can't play your dirty thricks here!"

      "Keep them away!" grated Bascomb. "Keep them away, and I'll fix this fellow now!"

      Frank heard the bully's voice, but he could not see Bascomb. With a cry of unutterable fury, Merriwell leaped for his foe, caught him, grappled with him.

      Then was seen such a mad struggle as not one of the boys present had ever before witnessed. Merriwell seemed like a tiger that had been stung to ungovernable rage, and Bascomb exerted every bit of skill and strength he possessed.

      Round and round they whirled, away they reeled, and then a cry of surprise and horror suddenly broke from the crowd.

      The beginning of the fight had been at a long distance from the brink of the bluff, but, all at once, it was discovered that, in the darkness, they had shifted about till they were close to the verge. And, unconsciously, they were staggering swiftly to the edge.

      "Stop them!" shouted Hodge. "Quick, or they will go over!"

      Fred Davis leaped forward, clutched at the struggling lads, but could not hold them. In a twinkling they tore away, and reeled on.

      Others would have interfered, but it was too late. Both Hodge and Mulloy did their best, but Bascomb and Merriwell escaped their outstretched hands.

      Then another cry of horror went up.

      The fighting lads

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