But he did not yet recognize the kind of stuff of which John Diamond was built.

"Come! come!" impatiently called one of the spectators. "Quit ducking and dodging and get into the game."

"That's right! that's right!" chorused several. "This is no sport."

"And it's no six-day walking match," sneered Roland Ditson. "Merriwell seems afraid to stand up and face Diamond."

"Is that what you think?" Frank mentally exclaimed. "Well, I suppose I will have to hit him a few times, although it goes against my grain."

A moment later he dropped his hands by his side and took a step to meet the Virginian. It seemed like a great opportunity for Diamond, and he led off straight for Frank's face, striking with his left.

With a slight side movement of his head Frank avoided the blow, allowing his enemy's fist to pa.s.s over his shoulder. At the same time he cross countered with his right hand, cracking Jack a heavy one under the ear.

"Hooray!" cried Harry Rattleton in delight. "That was a corker! Bet Sparkler saw more stars than there are in the Wilky May--I mean Milky Way."

For a few minutes the fight was hot. Again and again Frank struck his enemy, but without putting his full strength into any of the blows, but it did not seem to have any effect on Diamond save to make him more fierce and determined.

"The Southerner's got some sand," commented Bruce Browning.

"That's right," nodded Puss Parker.

"He takes punishment well for a while, at least; but I don't believe he will hold out much longer. I think he is the kind of a fellow to go to pieces in an instant."

"You can't tell about that. I have a fancy that he's deceptive."

None of them, save Rattleton, possibly, knew that Merriwell was reserving any of his strength when he struck his foe.

The fellows who a short time before were the most indignant against the Southerner because he seemed determined to "blow" were now forced to admire his bulldog tenacity and sand.

Merriwell had no desire to severely injure Diamond, although he had felt some resentment toward the fellow for forcing him into a duel with rapiers.

To Frank it had seemed that the Virginian had no hesitation in taking advantage of an enemy, for Diamond must have presumed that Merriwell knew nothing of the art of fencing and swordplay.

But for this belief, Merriwell would have been inclined to keep on and tire his enemy out, without striking a single blow that could leave a mark.

But when Frank came to consider everything, he decided that it was no more than fair that he should give his persistent foe a certain amount of punishment.

Again and again Frank cross countered and upper-cut Diamond, and gradually he came to strike harder as the Virginian forced the fighting, without showing signs of letting up.

Bruises and swellings began to appear on Diamond's face. On one cheek Merriwell's knuckles cut through the skin, and the blood began to run, creeping down to his chin and dropping on the bosom of his white shirt.

Still, from the determination and fury with which he fought, it seemed that Diamond was utterly unconscious that he had been struck at all.

Jack did not consider how he had led Frank into a duel with rapiers without knowing whether the fellow he hated had ever taken a fencing lesson in all his life.

His one thought was that, being an expert boxer himself, Merriwell had forced him to a fist fight, believing it would be easy to dispose of him that way.

Diamond's hatred of Frank made him blind to the fact that he was in the least to blame, and filled him with a pa.s.sionate belief that he could kill the smiling Northerner without a qualm of conscience--without a pang of remorse.

At last, disgusted with his non-success in striking Frank at all, he sprang forward suddenly and grappled with him.

Frank had been on the watch for that move.

Then the boys saw a pretty struggle for a moment, ending with Diamond being lifted and dropped heavily, squarely on his back.

Merriwell came down heavily on his persistent enemy.

Frank fell on Jack with the hope of knocking the wind out of the fellow and thus bringing the fight to a close.

For a few moments it seemed that he had succeeded.

Frank sprang up lightly, just as Tad Horner grappled him by the hair with both hands and yelled: "Break away!"

Roland Ditson was at Diamond's side in a twinkling.

"Come, come, old man!" he whispered; "get up and get into the game again! Don't let them count you out!"

But the Virginian was gasping for breath, and he did not seem to hear the words of his second.

"That settles it," said Puss Parker, promptly.

"Better wait and see," advised Bruce Browning. "Diamond may not give up when he gets his breath."

"It doesn't look as if he'd ever get his breath again."

Harry Rattleton was at Frank's side, swiftly saying:

"Why didn't you knock him out and show the fellows what you can do? You monkeyed with the goat too long. He's stuffy, and you had to settle him sometime. It didn't make a dit of bifference whether it was first or last."

"That's all right," smiled Frank. "He's got sand, and I hated to nail him hard. It seemed a shame to thump such a fellow and cover his face with decorations."

"Shame? shame?" spluttered Harry. "Why, didn't he force you into a duel with rapiers, or try to? and he is an expert! Say, what's the matter with you? If I'd been in your place I'd gone into him tooth and nail, and I wouldn't have left him in the shape of anything. Have you got a soft spot around you somewhere, Merriwell?"

"I admire sand, even if it is in an enemy."

"You take the cherry pie--yes, you take the whole bakery!"

Harry gazed at his roommate in wonder that was not entirely unmingled with pity and disgust. He could not understand Merriwell, and such generosity toward a persistent foe on the part of Frank seemed like weakness.

In the meantime Ditson had been urging Diamond to get up.

"They'll call the sc.r.a.p finished if you don't get onto your pins in a jiffy," he warned. "Horner's got his watch in his hand."

Still the Virginian gasped for breath and seemed unable to lift a hand.

If ever a fellow seemed done up, it was Diamond just then.

Roll Ditson ground his teeth in despair.

"Oh, Merriwell will think he is c.o.c.k of the walk now!" he muttered.