Frank Merriwell's Races

by Burt L. Standish

But his hand found nothing that suited his need at that moment.

The cautiously advancing men came nearer and nearer. He could hear them whispering to each other, and they seemed to block the entire width of the narrow alley. He could not make out their number, but he was sure there must be several of them.

"Can yer see him, Jake?"

"No, an' I can't hear him neither."

"But he's here somewhere, and they say he'll fight. Look out fer him."

Frank heard these whispered words, and then, without realizing that he was about to do so, he laughed!

There were hoarse cries, curses and blows. A savage struggle suddenly was begun in the dark alley.

Frank had hoped to break through the line of his foes by his sudden rush, but he was not successful, although his hard right fist knocked a man down with his first blow.

Then he received a shock that seemed to cause a thousand bright lights to flash before his eyes, and he knew he had been struck on the head with some sort of weapon.