w was struck swiftly enough, but Frank stopped it with a right
hand guard, and, with his left, countered heavily on Bascomb's mouth,
sending the big fellow's head back.

Bascomb was surprised, and he showed it. He was also thoroughly
angered, and he proceeded to "wade into" Merriwell like a cyclone.

On the other hand, Merriwell was cool as ice, and he made every blow
count something, for even when they failed to land they kept the big
fellow busy.

Time after time Bascomb rushed in, but Merriwell was light as a feather
on his feet, and he danced nimbly about, tapping the other fellow now
here, now there, smiling sweetly all the while, and showing a skill
that was very baffling to Bascomb.

"Hang him!" thought the big fellow. "He is a regular jumping jack. If
I don't land a blow on him pretty quick, I am going to clinch."

This he soon did, catching Frank for the cross-buttock throw.

For a moment it looked as if Merriwell would be flung heavily, and
Hodge drew his breath through his teeth with a hissing sound that
turned to a sigh of relief as he saw his friend thrust forward his
right foot between Bascomb's, break his wrist clear and catch the big
fellow behind the left knee with his left hand, while he brought his
right arm up over Bascomb's shoulder, and pressed his hand over
Bascomb's face, snapping his head back and hurling him off sideways.

This was done quickly and scientifically, and it convinced Hodge that
Bascomb could not work the cross-buttock on Merriwell.

Hugh Bascomb was disgusted and infuriated by his failure. He had
counted on having a soft thing, and he was actually getting the worst
of the encounter.

Time was called, and a breathing spell taken.

Then they went at it again, and this time both worked savagely, their
movements being swift and telling.

Watching this battle, Paul Rains began to believe that he was not yet
quite Merriwell's match at boxing.

"But I am a better man than he is at most anything else," thought the
fellow.

Smack! smack! smack!

Merriwell was following Bascomb up like a tiger, and the big fellow was
forced to give ground. Again and again Frank hammered the desperate
plebe, getting few blows in return and seeming to mind none of them no
more than drops of rain.

Bascomb's face wore the look of an enraged bull. Suddenly, with a
quick side motion, he snapped off the glove on his left hand.

Then, with his bare first, he struck straight and hard at Fr