"On your head, if I do!"
The fellow made a threatening swing with the club. Frank ducked, dodged aside, leaped forward, caught his arm, grappled with him.
Now they were face to face, so close together that Merry could distinguish the features of the prowler.
"Sport Harris!" he shouted, astonished by the discovery.
"Yes!" snarled the other, trying to wrench his hand free.
"You here?"
"You bet!"
"What for?"
"Business."