“There goes Merriwell!”
Hawkins had succeeded at last in back-heeling Frank, who went down. The athlete of the scarred face flung his full weight onto Merry, thinking to crush him to the floor, for the shoulders of the loser must strike the floor flatly and fairly.
How did it happen? When it was all over there was not a man among the witnesses who could tell just how Merriwell did it, but, somehow, as he was falling, he turned aside with a twisting movement, and both men struck on their sides.
Their holds had been broken, but, like a flash, Hawkins’ arms closed round Merry, whom he attempted to turn upon his back.
The strange athlete had the best hold, but Frank resisted with all his strength. However, he could not keep Hawkins from turning him.
Then Merriwell’s body made a “bridge.” That is, his heels were on the floor, and also the back of his head, but from his heels to his head not a part of his body touched the mat. Hawkins would not be the victor till he had forced Merry’s shoulders down upon the mat.
Still holding Frank in that position with a “lockhold,” the youth of the scarred face lifted his own body and flung its full weight upon Merry’s chest.
“Ah!” cried the witnesses.
But not a particle did Merry’s body give! It seemed rigid as a bent hoop of so much iron!
Again Hawkins lifted himself and flung himself down upon that arched chest, but with a like result.