"I have yer now!" grated the policeman.
Frank led him directly toward the clothesline. Just before the line was reached, Frank seemed to stumble and nearly fall. He did it in order to duck under the line.
A triumphant exclamation broke from the officer. It was cut short by another sort of exclamation.
The clothesline caught him under the chin. It snapped his head backward and his heels forward. He went down flat on his back with a terrible thump, and there he lay.
With a triumphant laugh, Frank shinned up the fence and perched on the top beside Rattleton.
The officer was sitting up. He had seen more stars and fireworks than it had ever been his fortune to behold before.
"Ta, ta, old chappie!" tauntingly called Merriwell. "We'll see you some other evening."
"Stop—stop right where you are!" ordered the policeman, in a bewildered way, looking around for the speaker. "You can't get away. It's no use for you to try."
"You're twisted, old man," laughed Frank. "Good-night, and pleasant dreams! We certainly had you on a string to-night. Ha! ha! ha!"
Then the boys dropped down from the fence into the next yard, made their way to the street, and hastened toward Morey's.