Frank was kept busy meeting the swiftly shifting attacks of the fellow, who was seeking to confuse him.
“I know your style,” declared the vengeful chap. “You can’t work the tricks you played on me at the Midwestern. Try any of them—try them all!”
Frank made no retort. He was watching for a chance to try quite a different trick.
Suddenly the opening came. He closed in. The rapiers slipped past until hilt met hilt. With a snapping twist Frank tore the weapon from the fingers of his foe and sent it spinning aside.
Darleton was at Merry’s mercy. Frank had been forced into this engagement in a way that made it something entirely different from an ordinary affair of honor. He was surrounded by enemies. No friends were present. He could have ended Fred Darleton’s life with a single stroke.
Instead of that, he stepped quickly aside, picked up the rapier and offered it to his foe, hilt first.
Chagrined by what had happened, Darleton snatched it and made a quick thrust at Merry’s throat.
By a backward spring, Merry escaped being killed.
Instantly a wonderful change came over Frank. He closed in and became the assailant. Twice he thrust for Darleton. He was parried, but he guarded instantly and prevented the fellow from securing a riposte.
Merry’s third attempt was more successful.