“All aboard,” called the conductor.
A few moments later the train pulled out.
In the meantime, Mat Madison had recovered and regained his feet. The result of his attack on Merriwell had astonished him no less than it did his followers. Even after recovering from the shock he could not understand just what had happened to him, although he realized that, in some manner, he had been sent spinning through the air. It had dazed him. After regaining his feet he asked one of the young toughs what had happened.
“Why,” was the answer, “he just grabbed you and throwed you, that’s all.”
“Oh, he throwed me, did he?” growled Madison, a vicious look on his face. “Well, I ruther think I’ll throw him next time. He’ll git all that’s coming now!”
“That’s right, Mad!” encouraged his followers. “You didn’t hit him because he dodged. Go for him again. Grab him this time before he can grab you.”
“Just watch me,” advised the thug, as he sprang to the platform.
Without warning, Madison came quickly up behind Merry, throwing his arms round Frank, in this manner pinning the arms of the latter to his sides.
“Now I’ve got ye, burn your hide!” snarled the ruffian. “You worked a slick trick on me t’other time, but you can’t do it aga——”
He did not finish; Frank gave him no further time for speech.