“If I do, I can shove you. I have witnesses.” “Your own gang, and they will swear to anything you want ’em to. Let go—let go, I say! Take your hands off!” “Steady!” and Frank again pinned him against the wall, despite his struggles, holding the man with an ease that astonished the witnesses. “I will let you go when I am ready—not before. I am not done talking to you.” Flynn’s anger was terrible to see. His eyes glared and he actually frothed at the mouth. At that moment he looked as if he longed to annihilate Merry. The fellow stopped struggling, but suddenly he drew something from beneath his coat—something that flashed. “Look out, Merriwell!” Now Woodock tried to catch hold of the fellow, but Flynn struck at Frank with that bright thing, and Merriwell dropped to the floor, with a gasping exclamation. “He’s stabbed!” shouted Dustan, horrified. Clang! The knife fell from Flynn’s hand to the floor. The ruffian stared down at Frank a moment, and then he whirled toward the door. “Stop him!” Howard Dustan shouted the words. “Don’t try it!” grated Flynn. One of the spectators did try it, however. Out shot Flynn’s fist. Smack!—it struck the fellow fairly in the mouth, knocking him down. The desperate rascal leaped over the one he had struck down and was outside in a moment. His wheel was there. Onto it he leaped, his feet found the pedals, and he shot away. “He’s killed Merriwell!” “I—think—not,” gasped Frank, speaking with difficulty. “He’s simply—knocked the wind—out of—me.” Then he sat up, with his hands pressed to the pit of his stomach. “Why, he stabbed you there!” exclaimed Dustan. “Don’t think so,” said Merriwell, with a rueful smile. “He came near it. Belt buckle turned knife. He meant to do it, all right. Took me by surprise. I was to blame. Wasn’t on guard. Blow knocked wind out of me—that’s all.” “Thank Heaven for that! I thought he had done you up. But he meant to, and that was a crime! After him, fellows! Don’t let him get away! Thomaston prison is good enough for him!” Already two or three had rushed out and started in hot pursuit of the fugitive, raising an outcry on the street. They soon disappeared. Merriwell arose, looking thoroughly disgusted. “I was not smart, or he’d not taken me by surprise like that. Wasn’t looking for that kind of a blow.” “You can thank fortune he didn’t murder you,” said Dustan. “Why, I never saw anything like it! He struck like a snake!” “He is a snake. It surprised me to find him here.” “Don’t blame us. He had papers that showed he belonged to two of the leading cycling clubs of Boston. He is a smooth talker, and he literally talked his way in here. Woodock seemed to take to him, for some reason, and they were friendly. He is pursuing him now.” “Well, Mr. Flynn left something behind to remember him by,” smiled Frank, picking up the knife. “I believe I will keep this.”