Bump! bump!—both went down, clasped in each other's arms.
Two other lads stood staring at the fallen ones. They were Frank Merriwell and Fred Flemming.
Tom Thornton was the unfortunate who stood in the way of Rattleton's headlong rush.
And Harry, quite unintentionally, had struck Thornton a smart blow with his clinched fist.
At that moment it did look as if the excited lad had rushed into the room with the premeditated purpose of hitting Tom.
"Here! here!—break away!" cried Merriwell, sharply.
"Not much!" panted Tom, in excitement and anger. "Think I'm going to let him go, so he can hit me again?"
"Catch hold, Flemming," ordered Frank—"catch hold of your friend, and we'll part them."
He grasped Rattleton by the collar as he spoke, but Fred made no move to pull Thornton away.