Frank was quick to discover that his enemy was working to get a heavy one into his wind, and after that he guarded the spot with greater care.
Time after time the pugilist tried to get another one in on Frank’s body. In fact, Frank led him into making these attempts, and each time he punished the fellow by cutting up his face.
In a few moments Manton was bruised and bleeding, but he seemed just as fierce and determined as when he began.
“He’s a hog for punishment,” decided Hodge.
Dent Frost was quivering with excitement.
“Manton will be a sight, no matter how it ends,” he thought. “Merriwell is marking him all up! I don’t believe he’s touched Merriwell’s face.”
Then he uttered an exclamation of delight, for his friend had blocked a lead and landed on Frank’s forehead, sending his head back.
“That’s the way!” he hissed. “A little lower and Merriwell would have a fine black eye to care for.”
Fuller looked on with his blood stirred, although he was very sorry that the affair had occurred. It was a savage fight, and soon both men began to show the strain, although Manton was breathing much more heavily.
Frank’s lips were pressed together, but his face wore that same smile. It enraged the gentleman pugilist, who was determined to “knock the smile off.”