THE WRESTLING MATCH.
Flemming turned pale and trembled with suppressed passion, while his
hands were clinched, and he glared at Merriwell as if he longed to
strike the lad who had dared face him and fling such an insulting
challenge in his teeth.
He tried to speak, but the words were choked back in his throat. He felt
that Merriwell was seeking retaliation, and, for that reason, had
purposely worded his challenge in a manner calculated to cut him deeply.
"Shame!" came from the lips of Tom Thornton.
Still the lad who had given the challenge smiled.
"I am meeting Mr. Flemming as he would meet me," said Frank, calmly. "I
am using the sort of language he would not hesitate to apply to me. Of
course I feel that I am lowering myself in doing so, but it is
absolutely necessary in some cases to place one's self on the level of
an unscrupulous enemy in order to meet and defeat him."
All this was said with coolness and distinctness, and it was as if Frank
were deliberately sinking the knife deeper in Flemming's writhing body.
It seemed to be more than Flemming could endure, for he lost control of
himself, and would have leaped toward Frank.
"You insolent hound!" he cried, through his set teeth.
Merriwell stood with his hands at his side, making no move, but he saw
that Flemming's friends had grasped him and were holding him in check.
"Steady, Flem, my boy!" fluttered Thornton. "Remember where you are!"
"I will strangle him."
"Wait! You can't do it here!"
"Let me go!"
"Thornton is right," declared Andy Emery, who had placed himself between
the two foes. "You cannot fight him here, old man."
"Then fix it so I can fight him somewhere--anywhere! I could murder
him!"
"You will have to wrestle him."
"Yes," said Thornton, "you will have to do that, Fred, or his friends
will believe you are afraid."
"Then I will wrestle him--and I will break his back!"
"You must calm down before you attempt it, and you must promise to
wrestle fairly according to rules."
"That will give me no chance to get square for this insult."
"You can show your superiority by throwing him, which you will do, as
you are an expert wrestler, and, for all of the other things he does so
well, no one ever heard that Merriwell could wrestle. Then, the next
time you meet him outside college bounds, you can force him to
apologize."
Emery nodded.
"Thornton is right, Flemming," he said.
Then, with a mighty effort, Fred seemed to gain control of his anger,
and he calmly said:
"All right, I will wrestle him, but I shall not be gentle with him,
although I promise not to foul him."
"Be as rough as you choose, as long as you keep within bounds."
Then it was that Frank Merriwell was heard saying to the friends who had
gathered around him:
"It may seem that I have opened myself to criticism by my manner in
challenging this person, but I call you all to witness that he was the
first to be insulting by his manner of criticising the friendly bout
between Mr. Diamond and myself. That, however, was not the beginning.
Had not Flemming given me other cause, I should not have challenged him
in such a manner. I have sought neither his friendship nor his enmity,
but he has seen fit to regard me as an enemy. I can honor an honest foe
who meets me man to man, but not one who takes a mean advantage of me.
On my head I now bear a bruise where I was felled by a heavy cane in the
hands of one of Flemming's friends, when he with five companions set
upon Diamond and myself. I always endeavor to square all my accounts
with friends and foes, and I shall balance the books with Flemming."
Fred forced a scornful laugh.
"A very fine speech!" he cried. "I assure you, Merriwell, you shall have
the opportunity to square matters. I could wish something somewhat more
businesslike than a mere wrestling match, but that may come later--if
you have as much nerve as you wish persons to think you possess. To
begin with, I'll show you that I spoke the truth when I said you know
nothing of the art of wrestling. I am satisfied to have Hugh Heffiner
for judge and referee."
Merriwell had chosen Heffiner because he knew Hugh was a square man, and
they were not at all chummy, so he could not be accused of having
selected a person who would favor him. Heffiner was in the gymnasium,
and had been attracted by the struggle between Merriwell and Diamond, so
he had overheard all that passed between Frank and Fred.
Diamond was standing at one side, his arms folded, a look of
satisfaction on his face. For all of Flemming's reputation as a
wrestler, Diamond felt sure that Merriwell was making no false moves. He
knew Frank too well to think he would deliberately challenge his enemy
to wrestle without feeling certain of his own ability to accomplish his
defeat.
Flemming was eager for the struggle, while Merriwell was calm and
deliberate in his movements. Flemming's friends gathered about him,
giving him advice.
Then Frank was not a little astonished to find Tad Horner at his side,
and heard the little junior say:
"Look here, Merriwell, I want you to understand that I am not your
enemy, although appearances may be against me."
"You were one of the Flemming gang at Jackson's."
"I acknowledge it but with shame," said Tad, and, to Frank's surprise,
the little fellow colored deeply. "At the same time, you will remember
that I did not lift a hand against you. You are a white man, Merriwell,
and I think you all right."
Frank was impressed by Tad's sincerity.
"Thank you," he said. "It is not necessary for every fellow who dislikes
me to be a rascal. I am sure that all of Flemming's friends are not
rascals. It is quite probable that a great many honest fellows think me
in the wrong, but I am glad to know that you, who were present at
Jackson's, do not think so."
Tad retired, quite satisfied with this. He had long admired Merriwell,
and he felt it his duty to come out on this occasion and express himself
openly. He did not mind that Flemming and his friends regarded him with
anger and scorn.
Arrangements for the wrestling match were soon made, and then the two
lads faced each other on the turf. Flemming was tall and solid, with
broad shoulders and a back of which he was particularly proud. He was
heavier than Merriwell.
There was not a single ounce of superfluous flesh on Frank Merriwell. He
was a mass of bone and sinew, splendidly formed and supple as a young
panther. In every movement and pose there was indescribable grace, and,
at the same time, a suggestion of wonderful strength and self-reliance.
Flemming was bold and confident. He had made a special study of
wrestling, and he knew all the tricks employed by experts. He had seen
Merriwell and Diamond wrestling, and he felt certain that his adversary
and rival would be an "easy thing."
It chanced that the under holds in the first match fell to Flemming,
which made him certain in his own mind that he would have no trouble in
throwing the lad he hated.
The signal was given, and the enemies advanced and secured holds. Then
Heffiner gave the command, and the struggle began.
In the twinkling of an eye Flemming tried the cross-buttock, but it
seemed that Merriwell had been expecting just such a move, for he passed
his left leg behind Fred's right and through in front of Fred's left.
Then the force of Flemming's surge seemed to lift both lads off their
feet.
"Down Merriwell goes!" cried Thornton, triumphantly.
But it seemed that in the act of falling Frank whirled in the air and
brought his rival under. This, however, had been planned from the very
instant that Fred made the first move to accomplish the cross-buttock,
and Frank's lock-trip had brought it about by lifting the other lad from
the ground by a whirling movement.
Flemming struck fairly on his shoulders, with Merriwell across his body,
and Heffiner cried:
"First fall for Merriwell!"
Exclamations of astonishment broke from the spectators. Instead of a
struggle of some moments, this fall had seemed to come about in the
twinkling of an eye.
But what was most astonishing was that Flemming was flat on his back at
the bottom when the lads struck the ground, although it had appeared
that he had successfully accomplished the cross-buttock.
It is certain that very few of those who witnessed the affair had the
least idea how Merriwell had accomplished this, but they saw that he was
the victor in the first contest.
Jack Diamond seldom smiled, but now he did so, and the expression of
satisfaction on his face was complete.
"Who said Merriwell was going down?" squealed Danny Griswold, in
delight. "Somebody fooled himself that time!"
Thornton bit his lip, muttering some fierce exclamation beneath his
breath.
Of them all no person was more astonished than Fred Flemming. He lay
dazed and wondering, scarcely able to realize that he was flat on his
back and his enemy across his chest.
Frank arose hastily, his face quite calm and expressionless. He did not
betray satisfaction or triumph, but his manner indicated that what had
happened was no more than he had fully expected. He had confidence in
himself, which any one must have to be successful, but still he was not
overconfident, which is a fault quite as much as timidity.
Flemming sat up. He had felt himself lifted from his feet with a
twisting movement, and he had felt himself whirled in the air, but still
he could not understand how the feat had been accomplished.
Shame caused the hot blood to rush into his face, and he ground his
teeth together, his whole body quivering.
"It was an accident--it must have been an accident!" he told himself. "I
tried to throw him so heavily that I overreached myself."
The look on Merriwell's face cut him like a keen knife and made him feel
a fierce longing for the next tussle.
"They actually think he threw me, when I threw myself," was his thought;
"but I will undeceive them in a moment. Next time I will drive him into
the earth beneath me! There'll be no further miscalculation."
Thornton was at the side of his friend.
"How in the world did you happen to let him take a fall out of you in
that manner?" whispered Tom, in extreme disgust.
Flemming's lips curled.
"Bah!" he returned. "He did not do it!"
"No? But you were thrown! Explain that."
"I was not thrown."
"Yes, you were, my dear fellow! Heffiner has given Merriwell credit for
winning the first fall."
"I made a misjudgment in the amount of strength I should use on the
fellow, and I turned myself in the air," declared Fred.
"Is it possible?"
"Of course it is!" hissed Flemming, who saw the incredulity in the face
of his friend. "He is even easier fruit than I imagined."
Thornton brightened up somewhat, although not fully satisfied.
"You must not let him accomplish it this time."
"I tell you he did not accomplish it before!" came bitterly from the
crestfallen and furious youth. "I will convince you of that in a moment.
See the fellow stand there with that lordly air as if he had actually
accomplished something. I will take all of that out of him! This is
catch as we can, and I will break his back!"
"Injure his back in some way, and he will not be able to hold the place
that belongs to you on the crew."
"That is right!" panted Flemming, his eyes glittering and his teeth
showing. "A fellow with a sprained back is no good at an oar. Why,
Thornton, my boy! Merriwell has played right into my hands! He has given
me the very opportunity I most desire, and I'll be a chump if I neglect
it! If he is not taken to his room on a stretcher, it will be necessary
for some of his friends to aid him. I know a hug that will take the
stiffness out of his spine and make him lame for a month!"
"Give it to him!" fluttered Tom, with returning confidence. "Fix the cad
this time so he will not be able to wrestle any more!"
"I will, rest assured of that. This is my opportunity. In five minutes
the starch will be taken out of him."
Flemming was confident, far more confident than he would have been had
he dreamed that Merriwell had turned him in the air and brought him
underneath in the first fall.
In his mind he saw Merriwell groaning on the ground, saw him assisted to
his room, saw him helpless in bed and attended by a physician.
But what gave Flemming the greatest satisfaction was the vision of
Collingwood humbly asking him to again resume his place on the crew--the
place now given to Frank Merriwell.
It seemed remarkable to Fred that he had not planned to engage the lad
he hated in a wrestling match, and so injure him in such a manner that
he would be unable to row on the crew.
But no less remarkable, it seemed, was the fact that he had been
challenged to wrestle by Merriwell, and thus given the opportunity he
most ardently desired.
The only thing that marred his satisfaction at that moment was that
Merriwell had, apparently by accident, seemed to have acquired the honor
of having thrown him in the first struggle.
"Gentlemen," said Heffiner, "are you ready?"
The antagonists stepped forward and signified their readiness. The
spectators fell back.
"This time it is catch as you can," said Yale's famous pitcher. "Any
kind of a hold is fair. Is that understood?"
"It is," nodded Merriwell.
"Certainly," bowed Flemming, giving Frank a scornful look.
"Very well, gentlemen. Prepare to clinch. Ready--go!"