Quite unconscious of the fact, Merry had wandered into a disreputable quarter, and suddenly, without warning, he was set upon by a number of men. One of them struck at him, while another attempted to sandbag him from behind.
The attack in front caused Frank to dodge with a pantherish spring that was most astonishing in its quickness, considering the fact that a moment before he had seemed totally unsuspicious and unprepared. This leap saved him from being stretched unconscious by the sandbag.
An instant later he was engaged in a hand-to-hand encounter with five thugs who had marked him as their prey. A well-dressed young man like Merry was sure to attract attention in such a quarter, and these ruffians had singled him out as a chap worth plucking.
His sudden and astounding change from total unwariness to a fighting youth with every sense on the alert was something for which they were unprepared.
He struck one fellow a terrible blow, which sounded clear as the crack of a pistol and sent the man turning end over end into the street, where he sprawled. He seized another by the left wrist with his own left hand, gave him a forward jerk to one side, at the same time striking him a swift, sharp blow with the outer edge of his open right hand, which landed on the fellow's neck just under the ear and turn of the jaw.
This man dropped like a stricken ox, and lay quivering on the broken curbing of the sidewalk.
Ducking low, one of the men attempted to seize Merry about the waist.
The young American athlete leaped backward, his foot came up, the toe of his boot struck the man under the chin, and over the ruffian went, flat on his back, his lips cut and bleeding, and choking over several teeth he had suddenly lost.
The street light at the corner sent a ray that gleamed on an uplifted knife.
With a squirming movement, Merry escaped the stroke, which cut a slit in his coat sleeve near the shoulder.