"He’s down!" snarled the fellow who had struck him. "Now we’ve got him!"
But at this point the chap Dick had hastened to aid broke away from the third ruffian, saw Dick’s peril, and leaped to his assistance, skilfully tripping one of them and kicking the other in the side.
"Thank you," said Dick, springing up, although the blow had made things seem to swim around him for a moment. "Now, back to back. We can take care of these dogs."
So, for the moment the lads stood back to back, meeting the renewed assault of the thugs, two of whom engaged Dick, while the one with the sand-bag went at the other fellow.
Dick was having his hands full, when he heard a cry that was half a groan, and felt a body strike against him. Instantly he understood what had happened. The other fellow had been downed.
Nine boys out of ten would have taken to their heels in such a fix and tried to get away, but Dick did not. He made a sidelong leap, and was just in time to avoid being dropped by a blow from the sand-bag.
A glance showed him that he was left for the time to fight the three ruffians. If he did not meet the emergency, if he fled, the sailors would accomplish their dastardly work of knocking out a Fardale cadet.
Then Dick Merriwell became a perfect whirlwind. It seemed impossible for one of the three sailors, or the three combined, to follow him up and get a telling blow at him. He leaped here, there, to the right, to the left, forward, backward, and his arms shot out now and then, his hard fists counting on the heads of the ruffians.
He was pantherish in his movements. When a thug sought to clutch him from behind he was away in a twinkling. When they struck at him, he dodged like a flash. When it was least expected, he sprang in and delivered sharp blows. He could handle his feet, too, as the rascals found out to their sorrow. He kicked first one and then another of them.
The ruffians began to curse, but still they continued to follow the leaping lad about. Dazed and partly stunned by a glancing blow he had received, the other fellow rose to his elbow and stared weakly at the struggle. He was amazed by the manner in which the pantherish lad fought the three ruffians, keeping them all engaged. A feeling of awe and admiration seized him. Three times he tried to rise and take part in the battle, and three times he fell back with a strange weakness that made him helpless.