"There is no foul in this match!" came exultantly from the lips of the Virginian. "That was stated at the beginning."
Flemming made one last feeble struggle, and then the two lads went down together, with Fred under.
They fell heavily, and Merriwell came down on his enemy with his full weight.
A moment later Frank arose.
On the turf Fred Flemming lay white and still, his eyes closed.
"Bring some water," calmly directed the victor. "I think Mr. Flemming has been stunned."
"This fall settles the match," decided Hugh Heffiner. "Frank Merriwell has won by throwing Flemming two times in succession. Permit me to congratulate you, Mr. Merriwell, for it is apparent that you are as expert in the art of wrestling as you have proved yourself to be in the other things you have attempted."
"Thank you," said Frank, simply, as he accepted Heffiner's hand.
Jack Diamond whispered in Tom Thornton's ear:
"It is your turn next!"