wildly and savagely, but the full force of his blows
didn't tell, they were too near him. It was long odds, though, in point
of strength, and in another minute Tom went spinning backwards over a
form, and Flashman turned to demolish East, with a savage grin. But now
Diggs jumped down from the table on which he had seated himself. "Stop
there," shouted he; "the round's over--half-minute time allowed."

"What the ---- is it to you?" faltered Flashman, who began to lose
heart.

"I'm going to see fair, I tell you," said Diggs with a grin, and
snapping his great red fingers; "'tain't fair for you to be fighting one
of them at a time. Are you ready, Brown? Time's up."

The small boys rushed in again. Closing they saw was their best chance,
and Flashman was wilder and more flurried than ever: he caught East by
the throat, and tried to force him back on the iron-bound table; Tom
grasped his waist, and, remembering the old throw he had learned in the
Vale from Harry Winburn, crooked his leg inside Flashman's, and threw
his whole weight forward. The three tottered for a moment, and then over
they went on to the floor, Flashman striking his head against a form in
the Hall.

The two youngsters sprang to their legs, but he lay there still. They
began to be frightened. Tom stooped down, and then cried out, scared out
of his wits. "He's bleeding awfully; come here, East, Diggs,--he's
dying!"

"Not he," said Diggs, getting leisurely off the table; "it's all
sham--he's only afraid to fight it out."

East was as frightened as Tom. Diggs lifted Flashman's head, and he
groaned.

"What's the matter?" shouted Diggs.

"My skull's fractured," sobbed Flashman.

"Oh, let me run for the housekeeper," cried Tom. "What shall we do?"

"Fiddlesticks! it's nothing but the skin broken," said the relentless
Diggs, feeling his head. "Cold water and a bit of rag's all he'll want."

"Let me go," said Flashman, surlily, sitting up; "I don't want your
help."

"We're really very sorry," began East.

"Hang your sorrow," answered Flashman, holding his handkerchief to the
place; "you shall pay for this, I can tell you, both of you." And he
walked out of the Hall.

"He can't be very bad," said Tom with a deep sigh, much relieved to see
his enemy march so well.

"Not he," said Diggs, "and you'll see you won't be troubled with him any
more. But, I say, your head's broken too--your collar is covered with
blood."

"Is it, though?" said Tom, putt