Frank Merriwell's Champions Part 54

"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 a.s.sault 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 a.s.sault 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 a.s.sailant, 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 s.h.i.+ner 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 a.s.sailants. 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 a.s.sailed 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 a.s.sociates 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 a.s.sault, 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.