That one word fell sharply from Merry’s lips. He leaned the long-handled brush against the billboard and turned to meet his angry enemy.
“All right, now,” he said, gently. “Come ahead, and I’ll make it interesting for you.”
Riddle hesitated a single instant, and then he saw something like a grin on the face of the watching janitor. That decided him. He made a spring for Frank.
Out shot Merriwell’s arm.
Crack!
The blow sounded almost like a pistol shot.
Delvin Riddle was knocked down on the instant, and struck sprawling in the overturned mass of paste. In that he sprawled around for a moment, and, when he got up, he was a sight to behold.
Riddle looked at himself, then looked at Merriwell.
“You shall pay for this!” he grated. “I’ll see you again.”
A number of spectators had gathered, and they were laughing openly over Riddle’s ludicrous appearance as he hurried away. The fellow was thoroughly crestfallen, but in his heart he swore vengeance.