"Never mind, Clan," said Merry, "I've got him now." With a swiftness and ease beautiful to see, Merriwell thrust his left foot between Blunt's kicking extremities, pushed the left arm farther, and completely around his neck, clung like a leech to his left elbow, twisted on his toes, bent his knees, and heaved upward. Blunt was lifted clear of the ground on Merry's back. It was the old reliable hip lock. The next instant, Blunt had fallen. Merry was on top and Blunt's shoulders squarely on the ground. "First fall for Chip Merriwell," sang out Clancy. "He's a chip of the old block in more ways than one." Blunt got up, smiling. It was his old, mirthless smile, and, like a barometer, announced his rising temper. The second round was a little more exciting. Possibly Merriwell, wishing to encourage Blunt, gave him the initial advantage. A minute, or a minute and a half of fierce, silent struggling followed, Blunt blowing like a grampus and Merriwell taking it easily. With an arm clasped around Merriwell's neck, Blunt labored tremendously to turn him over. Merry, however, was like a rock, and all the cowboy's efforts failed. He expended a vast amount of strength, which was exactly what Merry wanted. Then, with startling suddenness, Merriwell from a rocklike, passive defense became the aggressor. He seemed to yield to Blunt's pushing and hauling, but that supposed yielding was a sorry disappointment to the cowboy. Somehow, Merry regained his feet; then, in a flash, Merry's right arm had Blunt's head in chancery, with Blunt at his back. With a marshaling of his reserve strength, Merry turned the Wonder a somersault and laid him stunned and flat on his back. "Well, I'll be blamed!" exclaimed Jordan, rubbing a dazed hand across his forehead. "That's the best I ever seen, an' no mistake." "How the jumpin' sand hills did he do it?" murmured the bewildered Harrison. "He's sure some on the wrestle!" exclaimed Aaron Lloyd. "Second fall," announced Clancy crisply. "Two straight for Chip Merriwell, and he wins." Frank, breathing a little hard, hurried to kneel at Blunt's side. "Didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked anxiously. Blunt sat up and stared at him, smiling wrathfully, and his jet-black eyes two points of flame. "No, you didn't hurt me," he answered. "I'm all rawhide and whalebone, and it isn't in you to hurt me. Confound you, I'll get you at something or other yet. Want to spar with bare knuckles?" "Not to-day," Frank answered. "A bargain is a bargain, Blunt. I won this set-to in a couple of straight falls. Now, tell me what you know about Professor Borrodaile." Jordan brought Blunt's shirt, and began pulling it over his head. Harrison rushed to the horses and returned with a canteen. Blunt took a long pull at the canteen, and got up. "If you're afraid to spar--" he began, but Clancy interrupted him. "You've lost out, Blunt, and Merriwell has bought and paid for the information about Professor Borrodaile. Give it to him."