"Shall I act for you?"
Bascomb hesitated. Something told him that Frank could fight quite as well with his bare fists as he could box with gloves. But how could he retreat? If he did not meet Merriwell he would be regarded with scorn by every one, and, like Wat Snell, who had refused to meet Bart Hodge, be ostracised in the school.
"Davis ought to fight me first," he muttered.
"Oh, hang that plebe!" cried Reynolds, contemptuously. "He doesn't count with Merriwell. You can attend to him when you have disposed of Merriwell. If you go into this business determined to finish the fellow, you'll be sure to do it. Knock him out some way, fair or foul."
"I suppose a fellow might get at him foul in the dark, and not be detected."
"Sure. Only he wants to be slick about it. Say, I can tell you a trick."
"'Sh! Don't speak too loud; Dunnerwust and Mulloy are a little distance behind, and they're both particular friends to Merriwell."
So Reynolds lowered his voice, and talked rapidly to Bascomb in a low tone. The bully listened eagerly, finally slapping his thigh and crying:
"That's the scheme! That will do it!"
"Shall I see him, and make arrangements for tonight?"