That was all Hattie could say. She had been very angry a short time before, but now she was bewildered. It was some time before she could see the matter in the same light as Mabel did, but, after a while, the light-haired girl convinced her that they had really given the Virginian every reason to say what he did. Then Hattie became very sober, and it was plain that she was meditating. She realized at last that her thoughtless conduct had given people opportunities to talk about her. And then, all at once, realizing her position, she jumped up, saying:
“Come, Mabel, let’s go to the cottage.”
As she turned around, she saw three persons who were looking down at them from the bank above.
“Oh, there they are!” exclaimed the voice of Walter Wallace. “You are right, Mr. Flynn, in what you said about Merriwell and his friends. They are up to their tricks. But we are three to their two, and now is our chance.”
“Come on, then!” urged the hoarse voice of Parker Flynn, and the trio came charging down the bank, the third one being Mart Woodock.
“Look out, Merriwell!” shouted Hodge.
But Frank was on his feet, ready to meet their assailants, and, a moment after, a savage battle was taking place there on the shore.
“Get away, girls—get away quick!” urged Frank. “If people come and find you here, your names will be drawn into this affair.”
The girls heeded the warning and ran away swiftly.
“Take that, you cur!” cried Hodge, striking Wallace fairly in the mouth. “You will find all the fight you want here.”