"Ambushed!"
"Trapped!"
Frank and Bart uttered the exclamations as those dark forms gathered
around them and they heard that snarling voice.
At a glance they saw the faces of their assailants were hidden by
handkerchiefs which had been tied across them to their eyes, and one of
them had turned his coat wrong side out.
The one with the turned coat seemed to be the leader of the party.
"Get around them, fellows!" he ordered, sharply. "Don't let them skip!"
"We're in for it!" grated Hodge.
"It looks that way," admitted Frank.
"We'll have to fight!"
"Sure."
In another moment they had placed themselves back to back, and were
ready to meet the assault of the young thugs of the street.
"So you'll fight, will you?" grated the leader. "Well, you won't stand
much show with this crowd. We can knock the packing out of you in short
order."
"Don't be so sure of that," said Frank, with that singular laugh which
Hodge knew indicated Merry was thoroughly aroused. "You may not find it.
such a snap."
"We are three to your one."
"Even then you are not so many."
"The trouble with you is that you think yourself a great deal smarter
than you are. Well, you'll change your mind after this. To-morrow you'll
be in a hospital."
"You may be in a coffin, my fine fellow."
The masked ruffians had surrounded Frank and Bart, and were ready for
the attack. Their leader gave the word:
"At 'em, boys! Hammer 'em! Knock 'em down and kick 'em!"
Then the assault was made with a rush that was hard to withstand. For a
moment it seemed that Merry and Hodge would be swept off their feet,
overthrown, crushed.
Hodge was a fighter. He had a temper like a cold chisel, and he did not
fear anything that walked. Frank knew the caliber of his Fardale chum,
and he was glad that Hodge happened to be with him.
A big fellow got Bart by the throat, after Hodge had sent two others
reeling backward before cracking blows, and for some seconds it seemed
that Frank's friend would be overcome.
But Bart broke the hold of his assailant, gave him a terrible jab in the
wind, and then smashed him under the ear, when he doubled over. That put
him out of the fight for a few moments at least.
The others were ready to come at Bart again by this time. They were
cursing in a manner that told they were genuine toughs of the slums.
"Kill der bloke!" snarled one.
"Give it to him, Bill!" howled the other.
"That's right!" cried Hodge fiercely. "Come right on and give it to me!
You'll find me here!"
One of them succeeded in striking him a blow on the cheek that cut his
face and started the blood to flowing; but that did not daze Bart for a
second, and he got a kick at the ruffian that doubled him over and made
him gasp and groan.
Frank could use his feet, as well as his hands. He had learned the trick
in France, where a style of boxing with the feet is taught. When a man
can strike and kick with equal skill he is a dangerous antagonist, and
it was not long before the ruffians found they had a Tartar in
Merriwell.
Frank watched his chance and then tried to tear the handkerchief from
the face of the leader of the gang, but he failed in this, although he
knocked the fellow's hat from his head.
"I know you just the same!" cried Merry. "You have proved to be just the
kind of a fellow I thought you were!"
"You know too much!" the fellow flung back. "You won't know so much in a
few minutes!"
One of the other ruffians came in on Frank, who made a feint to strike,
and then kicked him in the neck with such violence that he went down as
if he had been shot. He lay on the ground like a log, and it was plain
he had been knocked out.
"Blazes!" howled one of the others. "He's knocked Shiner out!"
"All I want is a good chance at you," laughed Merriwell. "You'll get the
same dose, my fine fellow!"
"Hammer him--hammer him!" panted the leader. "Get in on him quick! We
must do this job before the police come!"
He rushed at Frank, who attempted to kick him over, as he had the other
chap, but failed, for the fellow dodged. In a moment two of them were
pressing Frank close.
"Here's where we do a little in-fighting," said Merry, as if he were
jubilant over the prospect.
It was hot for some seconds, but it proved too hot for Merriwell's
assailants. Frank had a way of causing them to bother each other, and it
sometimes seemed that one could have done much better against him.
But Frank was not to escape without a scratch. He was unable to watch
every enemy, and a blow on the ear made his head ring and staggered him.
"Now we have him!" shouted the leader.
They sprang upon him, and Frank found himself forced to his knees.
"Down with him!"
He fought them off, but they assailed him like furious tigers. He was
struck repeatedly while on his knees.
It happened that Hodge had beaten off his foes for a moment, and he saw
Merry's peril. With a growl such as might have issued from the throat of
a wild beast, he whirled to aid his friend.
Crack! crack!--with two blows Bart sent two fellows spinning, and then
he dragged Frank to his feet.
"Much hurt?" he asked.
"No, not a bit," was the cool answer.
The ruffians were astounded by the fight made by the two fellows they
had expected to overcome with ease. They had never before struck
anything just like that, and, for a moment, they hesitated.
The leader, however, was raving like a madman, made insanely furious by
the rebuff.
"At 'em again! at 'em again!" he fumed. "I'll make it ten more each. Do
'em up some way!"
A scornful laugh came from Frank.
"So these are your hired bruisers, my fine chap!" he cried. "Well, they
are fit associates for a creature of your low instincts. It's a hundred
to one you land behind the bars with the rest of them."
The fellow urged his satellites to a fresh attack, and they came at the
boys once more. The one Frank kicked had recovered and joined in the new
assault, although he took care not to get another one from Merry's feet,
for which he had a healthy respect.
The fight was resumed with fresh vigor, but still Frank and Bart held
their own, for they had been given a few moments to recover their
breath.
"Why, this is a regular cinch!" cried Frank as with a corking
left-hander he bowled one of the masked rascals over. "I haven't struck
so much sport as this in an age! Hit hard, Bart--hit hard!"
No need to tell Hodge to hit hard; he was putting in his best licks, and
they were counting. Blood was running down his face, but he did not
realize he had been touched at all.
Again Frank resorted to the use of his feet, and he sent one chap back
with a sharp kick in the middle, while another caught his heel on the
back.
Then it was that one of the ruffians cried:
"We can't do 'em without the others. Call the guards!"
A shrill whistle cut the air, and it was answered from up and down the
street.
"There are more coming, Bart!" cried Merriwell. "Put as many of these
fellows out of the game as you can before the others get here! This has
turned out to be a very warm evening!"