Frank Merriwell's Races

by Burt L. Standish

"How is that?"

"He spends some time in the gym every day, and I timed my visit to-day in order to catch him here."

"But what can you do here?" asked the Virginian, wonderingly. "You can't fight him in the gym."

"I do not want to fight him."

"No?" cried Jack, in astonishment. "Then what do you mean to do?"

"Flemming considers himself the champion wrestler at Yale. I hope to wrestle with him."

"Hope to wrestle?" exclaimed Diamond, still more astonished. "Why, even if you were to throw him, it could give you very little satisfaction."

Frank smiled mysteriously.

"Do you think so?" he inquired. "Well, we shall see. When you are ready, we shall go out. I will wrestle with you, and you shall throw me. We'll be near Flemming at the time. That will give him an opportunity to pass some remarks, if he so desires. If he does so, you may be sure I will lose no time in picking them up. I am tired of fighting, and I hope to finish this chap in another way."