It was done so swiftly that few saw just how it happened; but all realized that the gentleman pugilist had been tricked and grassed at a moment when he had fancied he was demonstrating the ease with which Merriwell could be taken off his guard.
Manton was dazed. He sat up, his face expressing bewilderment, chagrin, and rage.
“What—what——” he muttered hoarsely.
Then he turned his head and glared at Frank. He saw Merry standing quietly, with his hands on his hips, smiling the least bit.
“I trust you are not harmed, sir,” said Frank politely. “As you had secured a grasp on me from the rear, it was necessary to be a trifle violent.”
“Good land!” gasped Bert Fuller.
Manton rose to his feet.
“You tried to break my neck!” he grated, his face livid.
“Oh, no,” denied Frank. “Had I tried, you would have a broken neck now, I assure you of that.”