“Nail them, Merriwell!” shouted Hodge, his eyes flashing as he struck right and left.
There were eight or ten ruffians present, but they found those two college lads lively fighters. Merriwell had been dazed by the blow he received, but the manner in which Hodge walked into those toughs was an inspiration, and Frank quickly woke up to the work before him. The fight was short and sharp, and Merry and Bart made a dash to get out of the room. The barkeepers and some of those in the other room met them at the door. They attempted to stop them.
“Hold on!” cried one of the barkeepers, clutching Hodge.
“Hands off!” snarled Bart, hitting the fellow a terrible jolt on the jaw.
“We can’t stop now,” Merriwell almost laughed, as he upset the other barkeeper.
They broke through and rushed out of the place.
“We had better get away in a hurry,” said Hodge. “This may bring the police.”
“If there are any police in the neighborhood,” muttered Frank. “I’d like to see that watch!”
“What did you say?” asked Bart.
“Nothing.”