t,
Blunt," he continued, "but, if it is all the same to you, why not
settle, the matter catch as catch can? I have already taken one fall
out, of you, but you have always claimed you could have turned the
tables on me if the bout hadn't been interrupted."

"I'm agreeable!" answered Blunt cheerily. "Best two out of three," he
added, slipping out of his saddle and handing his reins to Randy
Harrison. "Hitch, pards, and gather 'round. A diamond in the rough is
going up against this polished article from the East. Watch me juggle
with him." He threw up his head and roared in a kind of chant: "I'm
Barzy Blunt, of the Bar Z Ranch, known to fame as the Cowboy Wonder!
Whoop!"

"Whoop!" howled Blunt's three companions, leading the horses back toward
the chaparral.

Frank had already begun to strip to the gymnasium clothes which he wore
beneath his ordinary apparel as under garments. His sleeveless shirt he
took off as well, thus matching the Wonder who was also stripping to the
buff.

Merry knew that the cowboys would play fair, as they understood the
word. They showed their sportsmanlike spirit by agreeing that Clancy
should act as referee.

"If you're ready," said Clancy, "get busy!"

Warily the two wrestlers faced each other. Again, as in the relay
Marathon, Merry was contesting with Blunt for the benefit of Borrodaile.
And Merry, although the Wonder was a quick and powerful antagonist, was
determined to win, and to do it handily.

CHAPTER IX.

A SHARP CLASH.

Barzy Blunt was a splendid specimen of physical development. His
shoulders were broad, his chest deep, and there was not an ounce of
superfluous flesh on his whole body. Under his clear, white skin the
muscles tensed and flowed, as he crouched, and approached and retreated
warily, looking for an opening. His movements were swift and graceful,
carried out with a precision and certainty that not only claimed, but
received, Merriwell's silent admiration.

But if Blunt was a fine specimen of a "homemade" athlete, Merriwell's
more scientific training revealed him a shade better on every one of
Blunt's points, admirable though they were. If Blunt's appearance
suggested excellence, young Frank's spelled perfection. Even the
cowboys, Blunt's partisans, could not refrain from exclamations that
honored the "polished gem from the East." Nevertheless, the Bar Z
fellows kept all their encouragement for their own champion.

"He's got nothin' on ye in weight. Barzy