On one cheek Merriwell's knuckles cut through the skin, and the blood began to run, creeping down to his chin and dropping on the bosom of his white shirt.
Still, from the determination and fury with which he fought, it seemed that Diamond was utterly unconscious that he had been struck at all.
Jack did not consider how he had led Frank into a duel with rapiers without knowing whether the fellow he hated had ever taken a fencing lesson in all his life.
His one thought was that, being an expert boxer himself, Merriwell had forced him to a fist fight, believing it would be easy to dispose of him that way.
Diamond's hatred of Frank made him blind to the fact that he was in the least to blame, and filled him with a passionate belief that he could kill the smiling Northerner without a qualm of conscience--without a pang of remorse.
At last, disgusted with his non-success in striking Frank at all, he sprang forward suddenly and grappled with him.
Frank had been on the watch for that move.
Then the boys saw a pretty struggle for a moment, ending with Diamond being lifted and dropped heavily, squarely on his back.
Merriwell came down heavily on his persistent enemy.
Frank fell on Jack with the hope of knocking the wind out of the fellow and thus bringing the fight to a close.
For a few moments it seemed that he had succeeded.
Frank sprang up lightly, just as Tad Horner grappled him by the hair with both hands and yelled: "Break away!" Roland Ditson was at Diamond's side in a twinkling.
"Come, come, old man!" he whispered; "get up and get into the game again! Don't let them count you out!" But the Virginian was gasping for breath, and he did not seem to hear the words of his second.
"That settles it," said Puss Parker, promptly.
"Better wait and see," advised Bruce Browning.

"Diamond may not give up when he gets his breath." "It doesn't look as if he'd ever get his breath again." Harry Rattleton was at Frank's side, swiftly saying: "Why didn't you knock him out and show the fellows what you can do?
You monkeyed with the goat too long.

He's stuffy, and you had to settle him sometime.

It didn't make a dit of bifference whether it was first or last." "That's all right," smiled Frank.

"He's got sand, and I hated to nail him hard.