With the final fall, Hawkins lay panting on the mat. After a moment he sat up slowly, all the confidence and conceit having departed from him.
“It’s no use,” he said, tearing off the gloves and flinging them aside. “I give up!”
Instantly Frank had flung off his gloves and offered Hawkins his hand. That hand was taken, and Merry assisted the other to his feet, saying:
“You gave me a stiff go at everything, old man! You are a wonder, and that’s all right! One time I thought——”
“Never mind what you thought,” said Hawkins. “I confess now that you are my superior. I may as well own up honestly, for everybody here would know it, whether I said so or not.”
“But you are a good one, Hawkie, old fel!” chirped Jack Ready. “Still, you were up against the real thing. Fellows, three yoops for Frank Merriwell!”
“Stop!” cried Merry quickly. “You are all my friends here, and I would not have you rejoice openly over the defeat of another. I propose three cheers for Brian Hawkins.”
The cheers were given at once and most heartily.
“As for Roland Packard,” said Merry, looking round. “He——”
But Packard had found an opportunity to slip away, without being observed, and was gone.