Ditson went out without a word. When he was gone Kelley looked over the top of the paper toward the door and growled:
"Dat feller's no good! If he'd wanted ter fit der odder feller hisself I'd tole him how ter bruck der odder chap's wrist, but he ain't got der sand ter fight a baby. He makes me sad! I'd like ter t'ump him a soaker on de jaw meself."
That evening Frank went out to call on some friends. He was returning to his rooms between ten and eleven, when, as he came to a dark corner, a man suddenly stepped out and said:
"Give us a light, young feller."
"I have none," said Frank, attempting to pass.
"Den give us a match," demanded the man, blocking the road.
"As I do not smoke I never carry matches."
"Well, den, I s'pose I'll have ter go wit'out er light, but—you'll take dat!"
Like a flash the man struck straight and hard at the youth's face. It was a wicked blow, delivered with marvelous swiftness, and must have knocked Frank down if it had landed.
But Merriwell had suspected all along that it was not a light the man was after, and he had been on the watch for just such a move as was made. For all of the man's swiftness Frank dodged, and the blow passed over his shoulder.