As Dick straightened up and reentered the fight he saw a ball strike Morgan in the back of the head, saw the ball split open, and, as it fell, saw a ragged stone drop out of it.
Dade went down on his face insensible.
Dick half-wheeled to ascertain from what point the treacherous missile came, but at that moment he collided with Dashleigh and fell.
“Pardon!” Dashleigh bellowed, racing to a point that he thought needed defense.
The fire of the attacking party was slacking, and Dick felt sure that an assault was to come.
Morgan lay insensible, and Dick saw a red stain on the snow.
“Was that an accident?” was his thought. “Were they both accidents? If so, some of our men aren’t fighting fair, but are putting stones in the snowballs.”
It was so comtemptible a trick that his blood boiled and he felt ashamed that such men could be among freshmen.
But there was no time for thought. There seemed to be no time for anything, for, under the lead of Ready, the sophomores were advancing to the charge.
Outside, the students and other spectators were wildly shouting and whooping. The rain of snowballs had been so thick that the fall of Starbright and Morgan had not been perceived even by the keen eyes of Frank Merriwell.