Jack hung desperately. Yet the trouble was that the young submarine skipper had tackled a man who was at least fifty per cent. stronger and fully as agile.
While Hal still hung back, Millard gave a heave, then rolled himself over on top of Jack Benson.
"I'll give you just a short lesson!" snarled the long-legged one.
He raised a fist, intent on bringing it down like a sledge-hammer across Benson's face.
That blow, however, wasn't the one that landed. Biff! whack! Two sturdy, hard fists registered on Millard's head from behind. Then a boy shot himself forward, battering-ram fashion, hurling Millard over to the ground. The boy went with the fellow, landing on top of him.
And that boy was Eph Somers!
"Come on, Jack, if you want some of this!" offered Eph, generously.
Truth to tell, there was need of both the submarine boys, for Millard now fought more fiendishly than before.
Millard was a powerful fellow, when aroused, but he had pitted against him two of the doughtiest, gamest boys to be found along the Atlantic coast. He was pretty well beaten up, in fact, by the time that Hal came limply upon the scene.
"Want any help?" demanded Hal, in a still somewhat breathless voice.