“Who’s an easy mum-mum-mum-mark?” exclaimed Jolliby hotly. “You didn’t fuf-fuf-fuf-find it so easy.” “Shut up, both of you!” growled big Bob Singleton. “You’ve played your part as clowns; now watch the heavy men.” After a few moments Cole began to press Dick harder and harder. The fact that young Merriwell continued to avoid him by swift footwork convinced Jack that his antagonist was afraid. “Why don’t yer stand up and spar right?” he demanded, at last. “Be you trying to wind me? Is that your game? Well, I guess I can stand it as long as you can. I’ll git at yer before I’m done.” “That’s the talk, my boy!” cried old John. “When you do git at him jest let him know it.” “Oh, he’ll know it, all right,” grinned the Maplewood boy. Then, to his surprise, Dick suddenly came in on him, feinted with his right, jabbed quick with his left, and got away. The blow had landed on Cole’s chin, knocking his teeth together and setting his head back. “Too bad! too bad!” sobbed Smart. “I hate to see it!” “Don’t let him hit yer that way!” shouted old John, in angered astonishment. “He done it when I wasn’t watching,” asserted Jack. “He can’t do it again.” Barely had he made this statement when Dick once more sprang forward, dodged to one side, ducked and avoided Cole’s blow, ending by smashing the Maplewood lad full and hard in the short ribs. He was away like a flash, and had not been touched. Now Jack Cole was aroused in earnest. He followed Merriwell up and struck two or three blows, which would have been decidedly effective had they landed. They were either dodged or parried by Dick. “If he ever plants one of them it’ll be all over,” asserted the boy’s father. When Cole retreated he found Dick after him. There was an exchange of blows at short range, and Merriwell hit his antagonist at least three times. As he got away, Cole tapped him lightly on the cheek. Although Merriwell’s dark eyes were flashing, there was a smile on his lips. “Why don’t you corner him, Jack?” shouted the old man, as he clawed at his whiskers. “Git him inter a corner and then thump him.” Henry Duncan, together with some of the club members, watched the encounter. They knew Cole’s reputation in Maplewood, and Duncan feared at the outset that he would prove too much for Merriwell. “He’s a strapping, raw-boned fellow,” said Duncan. “If he ever lands a fair swing on Merriwell I’m afraid that will end the whole business.” “I understand that Cole encourages his son in his fighting inclinations,” said William Drake. “Quite true! quite true!” nodded Eustace Smiley. “It’s reported around Maplewood that Jack Cole aspires to become a pugilist. He thinks he can make a record in the ring when he gets old enough.” “I am almost sorry we permitted this,” said Duncan in a low tone. “When I told the boys to make themselves at home I hardly fancied anything like this would occur. An ordinary boxing bout is harmless enough, but this seems to be an encounter for blood.”