The ruffian tried to crush the young athlete, but, by a wrestling trick, Frank lifted him, flung his heels into the air, snapped him over his hip, and sent him heavily to the solid walk.
These movements had carried them close to where the man who had been washing windows in a dazed way, with the hose in his hands, the water pouring from the nozzle.
In a twinkling, Merriwell caught the hose from the man’s hand and turned the stream on Sam Hooker, who had risen to a sitting position.
“Whar is he!” the ruffian roared. “Has he run away? I’ll swaller——”
“Water!” laughed Frank.
Sizz—spat!—the stream from the hose struck Hooker full in the mouth, drowning his words instantly.
The fellow was knocked flat on his back by the force of the water.
“Perhaps this will cool him off,” observed Merry.
The crowd of toughs began to realize what was happening to the terror of the town, and they were astounded.
“Ther dude flammed him!”