Bart fancied the door behind the doctor’s back moved slightly. He fancied it was swinging open.
The maniac bent over Bart and lifted the knife.
Then the door swung back noiselessly, and Frank Merriwell came into the room, leaping on the back of the mad doctor, whose wrist he grasped.
Then began one of the most terrible struggles Hodge had ever witnessed. And Bart was helpless to render Frank the least assistance. He could only look on and pray that Merry might conquer this terrible maniac.
Frank knew that it was a life-and-death struggle, and he exerted his wonderful powers as he had never before done. The doctor uttered a roar of rage, and tried to fling the youth off.
“Look out for him, Merry!” panted Bart. “Look out for that knife!”
Frank was taking care that the man did not get his knife-hand free. He had jerked the doctor’s hand back and given it an upward twist behind his back, hoping to force him to release his hold on the knife; but the man continued to clutch it for a time.
Higher and higher Frank twisted that arm, on which the muscles stood out in great ridges. At last the fingers relaxed, and the knife slipped to the floor with a clang.
Bart gave a sigh of relief and hope. But having released the knife, the mad doctor wrenched about and fastened his hands on Frank.
The strength of the maniac was appalling, but against it was pitted the strength and skill of the cleverest athlete Yale had ever known.