“Waal, denied if I don’t wring your neck!”
He made a grab for Frank, but Merry dodged quickly.
“Hands off!” he cried. “If you try to touch me, I will——”
“W’at?”
Dugan struck at Merriwell. They were on the bank of the river, which at this point was about four feet higher than the water. Merry parried the blow, and came in at Dugan like a shot, his hard fist flying out and catching the man between the eyes.
Crack! the blow sounded like a pistol shot.
Fairly lifted from his feet, the ruffian was hurled down the bank and into the water, where he floundered about, making a great splashing.
“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed Browning, in deep satisfaction. “I was reaching for him when you got in that crack, old man. It was a dandy!”
Archie and Cholly were frightened and astounded, for it had not seemed possible that the beardless boy would dare strike that man.
Dugan floundered about and arose to his feet, standing in about two feet of water. There was a terrible glare in his eyes as he again reached for his revolver. The language that came from his lips cannot be printed, but he swore he would shoot Frank.