Still the men whom he commanded never knew that he experienced a single
thrill of fear. He conquered his trepidation by his wonderful will
power, and always in battle he appeared perfectly unaware that there was
the least danger. Indeed, he was sometimes criticised for his apparent
recklessness in exposing himself to deadly peril.

Frank Merriwell never courted peril, and he avoided danger when he could
do so in a manly way and without lowering his own sense of dignity.

Once engaged in a dangerous encounter, or forced into a position of
peril, Frank's blood arose, and he seemed to be seized by a reckless
disregard of his personal safety. Then it was that he laughed in a
singular manner, and his enemies had learned that he was the most
dangerous when that laugh sounded from his lips.

As he heard those unknown foes creeping down upon him in the darkness of
the alley, Frank crouched close to the ground, and felt about with his
hand for some weapon of defense.

Fear suddenly gave place to anger, and he longed to retaliate on his
enemies. He knew well enough that the men creeping down upon him were
hired tools, chosen by his foes to do him severe bodily injury.

"Oh, for a club--a stone--anything!" he thought.

But his hand found nothing that suited his need at that moment.

The cautiously advancing men came nearer and nearer. He could hear them
whispering to each other, and they seemed to block the entire width of
the narrow alley. He could not make out their number, but he was sure
there must be several of them.

"Can yer see him, Jake?"

"No, an' I can't hear him neither."

"But he's here somewhere, and they say he'll fight. Look out fer him."

Frank heard these whispered words, and then, without realizing that he
was about to do so, he laughed!

There were hoarse cries, curses and blows. A savage struggle suddenly
was begun in the dark alley.

Frank had hoped to break through the line of his foes by his sudden
rush, but he was not successful, although his hard right fist knocked a
man down with his first blow.

Then he received a shock that seemed to cause a thousand bright lights
to flash before his eyes, and he knew he had been struck on the head
with some sort of weapon.

The boy staggered. Uttering hoarse exclamations, his assailants, like
beasts of prey, sprang upon him.

"Give it to him!" cried a voice.

With new strength, Frank twisted and squirmed. In doing so, he threw his
head from si