"Foul!" cried Harry, excitedly. "Horner hadn't given the word."
"Foul! foul!" came from all sides.
"There is no foul in this fight save when something is used besides fists," declared Merriwell as he staggered from his roommate's arms. "It's all right and it goes."
But he found that everything seemed swimming around him, and dark spots were pursuing each other before his eyes. The floor seemed to heave like the deck of a ship at sea. He put out his hand to grasp something, and then he was struck again.
Once more Rattleton's arms kept Frank from going down.
"This is no square deal!" Harry shouted. "By the poly hoker—I mean the holy poker! I'll take a hand in this myself!"
He would have released Merriwell and jumped into the ring, but Frank's strong fingers closed on his arm.
"Steady, old man!" came sharply from Merriwell's lips. "I am in this yet awhile. If Diamond finishes me he is to be let alone. The fellow that lays a hand on him is no friend of mine!"
"You give me cramps!" groaned Harry.
Instead of aiding in finishing Frank, Diamond's second blow seemed to straighten him up, as if it had cleared a fog from his brain. The spots disappeared before his eyes and things ceased to swim around him.