“Here’s where we do a little in-fighting,” said Merry, as if he were jubilant over the prospect.
It was hot for some seconds, but it proved too hot for Merriwell’s assailants. Frank had a way of causing them to bother each other, and it sometimes seemed that one could have done much better against him.
But Frank was not to escape without a scratch. He was unable to watch every enemy, and a blow on the ear made his head ring and staggered him.
“Now we have him!” shouted the leader.
They sprang upon him, and Frank found himself forced to his knees.
“Down with him!”
He fought them off, but they assailed him like furious tigers. He was struck repeatedly while on his knees.
It happened that Hodge had beaten off his foes for a moment, and he saw Merry’s peril. With a growl such as might have issued from the throat of a wild beast, he whirled to aid his friend.
Crack! crack!—with two blows Bart sent two fellows spinning, and then he dragged Frank to his feet.
“Much hurt?” he asked.