All this had taken very little time and, while it progressed, Bob had been gripped body to body with the biggest of the attacking party, a husky fellow of his own six foot height but with the added weight of a greater length of years. As this man leaped for 186 him from the woods, arm upraised with a blackjack clutched in his hand, Bob had seized the descending wrist and thrown his other arm about the fellow’s body. Thus they had wrestled.
As Frank shakily, with Della’s assistance, was getting to his feet, there came a panting cry from Bob, another scream from Miss Faulkner. Then through the air went flying the form of Bob’s assailant. He had fallen victim to Bob’s famous wrestling grip, which lifted the man from his feet and sent him flying over Bob’s head. But into the propulsion this time Bob put all his great strength. The result was that, instead of falling immediately behind Bob, the fellow cannoned through the air a distance of several yards.
As luck would have it, this human meteor descended upon one of Jack’s assailants, and the pair went down to the ground together. At this, the other man turned and fled incontinently into the woods.
The first round had been won. But there were still five assailants left. And all armed, while the boys were without weapons. Frank saw the danger of delay and called:
“Bob, Jack, quick. We must get the girls home.”
Shaking his head to clear it, he seized Della by the hand and started running towards the house. A 187 glance sufficed to show him the others saw the danger of delay, and were pelting after him with Marjorie Faulkner. Bob was bringing up the rear.
But their troubles were not ended. Thus far the attackers had refrained from using revolvers in order to avoid bringing others to the scene. But, seeing their prey escape, several now whipped out weapons and began to fire.
Bob, the last in line, groaned:
“Got me.”
He fell. Jack spun around, took in the situation, then called: