"I acknowledge it but with shame," said Tad, and, to Frank's surprise, the little fellow colored deeply. "At the same time, you will remember that I did not lift a hand against you. You are a white man, Merriwell, and I think you all right."
Frank was impressed by Tad's sincerity.
"Thank you," he said. "It is not necessary for every fellow who dislikes me to be a rascal. I am sure that all of Flemming's friends are not rascals. It is quite probable that a great many honest fellows think me in the wrong, but I am glad to know that you, who were present at Jackson's, do not think so."
Tad retired, quite satisfied with this. He had long admired Merriwell, and he felt it his duty to come out on this occasion and express himself openly. He did
not mind that Flemming and his friends regarded him with anger and scorn.
Arrangements for the wrestling match were soon made, and then the two lads faced each other on the turf. Flemming was tall and solid, with broad shoulders and a back of which he was particularly proud. He was heavier than Merriwell.
There was not a single ounce of superfluous flesh on Frank Merriwell. He was a mass of bone and sinew, splendidly formed and supple as a young panther. In every movement and pose there was indescribable grace, and, at the same time, a suggestion of wonderful strength and self-reliance.
Flemming was bold and confident. He had made a special study of wrestling, and he knew all the tricks employed by experts. He had seen Merriwell and Diamond wrestling, and he felt certain that his adversary and rival would be an "easy thing."
It chanced that the under holds in the first match fell to Flemming, which made him certain in his own mind that he would have no trouble in throwing the lad he hated.
The signal was given, and the enemies advanced