Arlington was astounded.
“What do you think of that, professor?” he demanded. “Is it allowable?”
“Perfectly,” answered Broad.
“All right! all right!” snarled Chet, once more seeking to engage his antagonist.
By this time Arlington realized that he was in no way a match for Dick with the foils. Still he vowed to himself he would not stop until he had countered once on Merriwell.
At last Dick lowered the point of his foil in such a manner that Chester fancied the opening was such that he could not be checked.
Nevertheless, with a sidelong movement of his hand, the marvelous young fencer caught Chet’s blade and turned it so that again the foils slid past until the guards touched.
Once more there came that twisting snap of the wrist, and once more Arlington’s blade was sent spinning into the air.
Chet stood panting and baffled, making no attempt to pick the weapon up.
“I should say that was about enough,” declared Broad, who saw that Arlington was too angry to continue. “You had better try some one for whom you are more nearly a match.”