“You will get it out of his head all right to-night if he shows up.” The sound of voices now came to their ears, and several persons were seen approaching through the darkness. “Here they cuc-cuc-cuc-come!” whispered Jolliby. There were four of them, as Dick and his friends saw when the approaching party drew nearer. One fellow advanced quickly and spoke to them. “I see you’re waiting,” he said. “Arlington is ready, too.” It was Mel Fraser. “Yes, we’re waiting,” said Brad. “Let him strip and get into gear. We will settle this thing in a hurry.” “He is all ready without stripping,” asserted Fraser. “He don’t need to take off his coat. Here he is.” He made a motion toward one of his companions, who stepped out from the others. Dick tossed his coat aside and announced his readiness. “Fly at it!” exclaimed Buckhart. “And may the best man win!” A moment later the two met and the fight was on. Although the moon was obscured by clouds, there was a faint, hazy light that enabled the spectators, by pressing close, to watch the struggle. “Get into it, pard!” growled Buckhart. “Go for him, Arlington!” cried the companions of Dick’s antagonist. With the bandage showing plainly about his head, Merriwell circled round his enemy, moving to the left. No word came from the lips of the other lad. There was a moment of sparring, and then Merriwell’s foe closed in swiftly, leading with a blow at Dick’s head. Dick ducked and tried to counter on the fellow’s body, but was blocked. “That’s the stuff, Arlington!” shouted Fraser. “Keep him going! Keep after him!” During the next few moments Dick busied his antagonist to such an extent that the fellow had no chance to keep after him. Indeed, it was with considerable difficulty that he avoided the varied attacks made upon him. Nevertheless, his defense was so skillful that Merriwell was somewhat astonished. “Arlington has been taking lessons,” he decided. “This is not his style of fighting.” Finally Dick received a blow on the shoulder that jarred him slightly, and the enemy sought to follow up the slight advantage thus gained. In doing so, he left an opening that Merriwell improved, and a sudden cry rose from the spectators, for, following the smack of a hard fist, one of the fighters went down. “It is Arlington, by Jim!” squeaked Tubbs. “Dick soaked him a good one that time!” “You bub-bub-bub-bet your life!” chattered Jolliby. The fellow recovered in a twinkling and sprang to his feet. Dick was waiting, and they went at it again with still greater fury. Round and round they circled, their feet sounding thuddingly on the solid ground. The spectators grew more and more excited. Buckhart was in a perfect fever. “Put your brand on him! Put your brand on him!” palpitated the Texan. “Don’t hit him!” entreated Smart. “It would be a shame to hit him!” “Keep him going, old man!” urged Fraser. “He’s up against the real thing to-night.”