"Jove!" exclaimed Jack, after they had seen the girls on board a car. "She's a way-upper, Merry!" "She's a good sample of the Boston girl." "Eh? Where's her glasses?" "You have been reading the comic papers." "She didn't mention Emerson or Browning." "And that surprised you?" "Why, I didn't suppose the genuine Boston girl could talk ten minutes without doing so." "Boston girls are very much like other nice girls, old man. They are well educated, refined and all that, but they are not always quoting Emerson and Browning, they do not all wear glasses, they are not all cold and freezing and they are handsome." They came to Cornhill. A car was coming down from Scollay Square, and they paused close to it to let it swing out upon Washington Street. Just as the front of the car approached, Frank Merriwell received a push from behind that sent him flat upon the track directly in front of the car wheels! That particular car did not have a fender, and it seemed that Frank must be mangled beneath the wheels. The motorman saw the lad go down and put on the brake hard, but he could not stop the car in time. Frank realized that he had been pushed upon the track by some one whose deliberate purpose it was to maim or murder him, but he could not save himself. He struck the paving, and the iron wheels seemed right upon him. But Jack Diamond moved with marvelous quickness. He made a grasp at Frank as the latter fell, almost caught him, then stooped, grasped his coat and yanked Merry from the track. The car brushed Frank as it passed, but he was not injured. "Thank you, old man," said Merriwell, as he quickly rose to his feet. "You saved me that time. But who pushed me?" They looked about. A small crowd had witnessed Frank's peril and gathered. In the crowd was a person slipping away. With a bound Frank was after him, caught him by the shoulder, swung him to get a look at his face. "Get out!" The fellow snarled the words and struck at Frank's face with his clinched hand. Frank dodged. "Wat Snell!" he cried, astounded. "Yes, Wat Snell!" grated the other, who was a boy well known to him--a boy who had been his enemy years before at Fardale Academy, when they both went to school. "You pushed me!" accused Frank. "You lie! I did not touch you! You fell." "I felt you push me, you miserable dog!" "Don't dare talk like that to me!" hissed Snell. "I'll have you----" "What! You don't dare do anything that is cowardly and treacherous! You did push me!" "That's right!" exclaimed a boy. "I seen him do it!" There was a murmur from the crowd that began to gather about. Black looks were directed toward Snell. "He ought to be lynched!" blustered a little old man. Then there were threats, and Snell grew pale, looking around for some means of escape. He saw accusing and angry faces on all sides, and he quailed and trembled.