A dozen times, in scarcely more than as many seconds, Chester sought to counter on his adversary, and a dozen times he was foiled by a simple movement of Dick’s wrist. At last, like a flash of lightning, Merriwell lunged, and the button of his foil counted in quarte. Arlington’s backward spring was made too late to avoid this. He lighted on the balls of his feet and came forward in a twinkling, seeking to catch Dick off guard after that thrust. Once more Chester’s effort was foiled by a graceful and easy movement on Merriwell’s part. And again Dick scored, this time in prime. “Well! well! well!” cried Buckhart. “Didn’t I say so? Didn’t I know it?” Chester flushed and showed symptoms of anger. “Oh, this is just the beginning!” he declared. “If this was the real thing it would be all over for you now,” asserted the Texan. “You’d have a surgeon trying to patch you up by this time.” “That will do,” said Professor Broad sharply. “The spectators will make no remarks.” “Well, I opine I can think,” muttered Brad to himself. Enraged by the success of Merriwell, Arlington continued the bout with redoubled energy. For some moments he succeeded in keeping Dick on the defensive, but all the while Merriwell was watching for another opening, which he found at last. His thrust was so swift that the eye could scarcely follow it, and he scored in second. A savage exclamation escaped Chet’s lips. “Play fair! Play fair!” he cried. “I’ll call the fouls,” said the athletic instructor. This seemed to excite and enrage Arlington more than ever, and he flung himself into the contest with great fury. In warding off the fellow’s thrusts and avoiding his fierce attacks, Merriwell now displayed marvelous skill. He was supple as a panther and quick as a flash of light, and the look on his handsome face was that of one who conquered by mastering himself. Chester’s breast was heaving and his lips parted. He was rapidly becoming winded through his own furious movements. When his attacks showed signs of weakening Dick began to push the engagement, and from that moment to the finish he played with Chet in a manner that revealed his superiority to every spectator. Again and again he scored without once being touched by the button on Arlington’s foil. “I knew it!” muttered Brad Buckhart, in deep satisfaction. At last, determined to make one count, at least, Chester risked all in a thrust which left him quite unguarded. The point of his weapon was caught by the point of Merriwell’s, and it slipped and passed through to one side until the guards of the foils touched. Then, with a single light, quick turn of the wrist, Dick snapped Chester’s foil from his hand and sent it spinning into the air. As it fell he caught it gracefully, gave it a turn in his hand, and held it hilt first toward his antagonist.