Frank Merriwell at Yale Part 5

Diamond trembled with intense anger. He tried to speak, but his voice was so hoa.r.s.e that his words were unintelligible. A blue line seemed to form around his mouth.

"Merriwell's got him!" Bruce Brown lazily whispered in Tad Horner's ear.

"See him squirm!"

Tad was relieved, although he endeavored not to show it; but a satisfied smile crept over his rosy face, and he felt like giving Frank Merriwell the "glad hand."

Diamond's anger got the best of him. He strode forward, looked straight into Frank's eyes, and panted:

"I hate you, sir! I could kill you!"

And then, before he realized what he was doing, he struck Merriwell a sharp blow on the cheek with his open hand.

CHAPTER IV.

THE FIGHT.

The blow staggered Frank. It had come so suddenly that he was quite unprepared for it. His face became suddenly pale, save where Diamond's hand had struck, and there the crimson prints of four fingers came out quickly, like a danger signal.

With the utmost deliberation Merriwell removed his coat.

"Come, sir!" he said to Diamond as he pa.s.sed coat and hat to a ready soph.o.m.ore.

"I--I can't fight you that way!" protested the Virginian. "Bring the rapiers."

"This time I claim the right to name the weapons, and they will be bare fists."

"Right! right!" cried several voices. "You'll have to fight him that way, Diamond."

"I will fight him!" grated Jack, furiously. "It is the prize fighter's way, but I'll fight him, and I will lick him!"

He tore off his coat and flung it down. The boys quickly formed a ring, and the freshmen foes faced each other.

Then the door of the room where the other freshmen were confined was thrust open, and Harry Rattleton excitedly cried:

"Whee jiz--I mean jee whiz! what do you fellows think? Do you imagine we are going to stay penned in here while there is a sc.r.a.p going on? Well, I guess not! We're coming out!"

Harry came with a rush, and the other freshmen followed at his heels, the party having been abandoned by the sophs who had been placed on guard over them.

"Hold on! hold on!" commanded Harry, forcing his way toward the fighters. "I am Merriwell's second, and I'm going to see fair play, you bet!"

"And I am Diamond's second," said Roland Ditson. "Just give me a chance in the ring there."

The appearance of the freshmen caused a brief delay. There was some talk about rules and rounds, and Diamond said:

"If I must fight with my fists, I'll fight as I please. I don't know about your rules, and there will be but one round--that will finish it."

"How does that suit you, Merriwell?" asked Tad Horner, who seemed to have a.s.sumed the position of referee.

"I am willing that Mr. Diamond should arrange that matter to suit himself."

"But there is to be no kicking," Tad Horner hastily put in.

"Certainly not," stiffly agreed the Southerner.

"All right. Shake hands."

Diamond placed both hands behind his back, and Merriwell laughed.

"Ready!" called Horner. "On guard! Now you're off!"

Barely had the words left the little referee's lips when--top, tap, slap!--Merriwell had struck Diamond three light blows with his open hand.

A gasp of astonishment came from the watching soph.o.m.ores. Never had they seen three blows delivered in such lightning-like rapidity, but their ears had not fooled them, and they heard each blow distinctly.

Merriwell's guard was perfect, his pose was light and professional, and he suddenly seemed catlike on his feet.

Diamond was astonished, but only for an instant. The tapping blows started his blood, and he sprang toward his foe, striking out with his left and then with his right.

Merriwell did not attempt to guard, but he dodged both blows with ease, and then smiled sweetly into the face of the baffled Virginian.

"Oh, say!" chuckled Harry Rattleton, hugging himself in delighted antic.i.p.ation, "just you fellows wait a minute! Diamond will think he has been struck by an earthquake!"

Bruce Browning, himself a scientific boxer, was watching every movement of the two freshmen. He turned to Puss Parker at his side and said:

"Merriwell handles himself like an old professional. By Jove! I believe there's good stuff in that fellow!"

"Diamond would like to kill Merriwell," said Parker. "You can see it in his face and eyes."

In truth there was a deadly look in the eyes of the pale-faced young Virginian. His lips were pressed together, and a hardening of the jaws told that his teeth were set. He was following Merriwell up, and the latter was avoiding him with ease. Plainly Diamond meant to corner the lad he hated and then force the fighting to a finish.

The rivals were nearly of a height and they wore built much alike, although Frank had slightly the better chest development.

Merriwell seemed to toy with Diamond, giving him several little pat-like blows on the breast and in the ribs. When the Virginian felt that he had Frank cornered he was astonished to see Merriwell slip under his arm and come up laughing behind him.

Merriwell's laughter filled Diamond's very soul with gall and wormwood.

"Wait!" he thought. "He laughs best who laughs last."

"Give it to him, Frank!" urged Rattleton. "You'll get out of wind dodging about, and then it will not be so easy to finish him off."

But Frank saw that in a scientific way Diamond was no match for him, and he disliked to strike the fellow. He regretted very much that the unfortunate affair had come about, and he felt that there could be no satisfaction in whipping the Southerner.

Merriwell hoped to toy with Diamond till the latter should see that his efforts were fruitless and give up in disgust.