Then Merry’s confidence came back to him. It had seemed that he might fail and be killed, but now he was sure that he would conquer the man.
Although he was swift as thought in all his movements, he was cool now, and everything he did counted.
He saw an opportunity to dash Hicks’ head back against the iron edge of the tender, and he did it, cutting a gash in the man’s scalp. Blood began to flow.
Frank’s throat had been torn by the finger nails of his enemy, and the two presented a grimy, gory appearance.
“Oh, curse you!” gasped Hicks. “I’ll do it yet.”
“I think not,” said Frank, as he gave the man a flip.
Then he rose to the top for the first time since the encounter had begun.
But Hicks was hard to hold, and he came near getting out from under the youth in a twinkling.
Merry grasped the man’s ears, one with each hand, lifted his head from the floor and banged it down with a thump.
Old Joe screamed with pain and rage.