Hegner danced away and came in with a bewildering rush, which was avoided with ease by Frank, who gave him a light body blow as he passed. Like a cat Wallace came about and was after Merriwell again. They sparred a moment, and Hegner tried to get in with a feint and a straight left-hand drive for the face. He put all his force into the blow, and it would have been a stunner had it landed; but Frank guarded with his right and countered with his left, sending Hegner staggering backward. At the very outset Merriwell had the best of it, much to the surprise of those who had expected Hegner to “walk into him with a rush.” They looked at each other, and then said over and over that there would be a sudden change. Wallace seemed a bit dazed by the reception he had received, and he ground his teeth with anger. He did not delay about coming to the scratch, however, and the bout went on. After a little sparring, both led for the face, neither guarding, and both blows told. Then, like a flash, Hegner dropped under and tried to uppercut Frank, thinking to do this before Merry could recover. The Yale lad went back with a bound, and Hegner found nothing but air. In another instant Frank came in again, and they were at it with fresh fury. Again both led at the face with their left, but both ducked, and, with crossed arms, their fists shot over each other’s shoulder. They got away instantly, and Hegner followed Frank up, apparently determined to press the battle. “If he gets Heg angry, he’ll be sorry,” declared one of the club members. “The fur will fly.” Diamond, who seldom laughed, laughed now. “If Mr. Hegner knows what is good for him, he’ll hold his temper,” he said. “If he loses it, Frank Merriwell will play with him.” “Rats!” was the return. “Mr. Merriwell won’t melt things, if he is from Yale. He’s not the only shirt in the laundry; he can be done up.” “You may be right, but Wallace Hegner hasn’t the starch to do the job.” “Wait and see.” For some moments the boxers sparred craftily, feeling for an opening, and then Hegner pushed things again. But his leads were met or dodged, and he received several sharp raps in return. One of his swinging blows came near landing, and it would have knocked Frank down had it reached. It was plain enough that all Hegner wanted was a good opportunity to strike Merriwell with every bit of force at his command. He tried the trick repeatedly, and the look of rage increased in his eyes as each attempt was a failure. “Merriwell is cleverer than I fancied he would be,” admitted one of the club members; “but he can’t last. Hegner will get him on the run after a while.”