"Singleton is on hand at all fights," thought Dick. "He gets round to see fair play."
Singleton and Hubbard passed on and their voices died out in the direction of the "Bloody Hollow" in Chadwick’s pasture.
There was another brief period of waiting, and then down the road sounded the signal—that peculiar whistle!
Instantly Dick Merriwell was on the alert, his blood leaping and his nerves tingling. The victim was coming!
Dick knew that there were to be brisk "doings" around that locality in a short time, and he had decided to take a hand in the affair. He did not propose to remain idle and see anybody waylaid and assaulted by some hired ruffians.
In a moment he had unbuttoned his coat. As a dark form vaulted the fence, Dick flung that coat aside. Then he crouched, ready to leap forward.
The unsuspecting fellow started to pass close to the bushes where the ruffians were hidden. Of a sudden, out sprang the three ruffians, confronting the startled chap.
"Give it to them!" cried Dick Merriwell. "They’re going to do you up! Soak ’em!"
At the same time he made a dash forward. The ruffians had rushed at their intended victim. One of them was armed with a sand-bag, and he tried to lay out the fellow they had been hired to slug.
Warned by Dick’s cry, the chap dodged the blow; but, even then, he was not certain it was not some kind of cadet joke.