The regular finals were over. As a finish to the evening’s entertainment, the announcer had stated that, in order not to disappoint those who had expected to witness a fencing contest, an arrangement had been made whereby Frank Merriwell, a guest of the club, would meet the club’s champion, Fred Darleton. Darleton had appeared first on the raised platform and had been greeted by hearty applause. Then came Merriwell, and the applause accorded him was no less generous. The preliminaries were quickly arranged. L’Estrange was agreed on as the referee. “On guard, gentlemen!” he commanded. At the word the contestants faced each other, and then they went through the graceful movements of coming on guard, their foils sweeping through the air. Simultaneously they advanced their right feet and were ready. “Engage!” The foils met with a soft clash and the bout had begun. The great gathering of spectators packed on the four sides of the raised platform were hushed and breathless. They saw before them two splendid specimens of youthful manhood. Between them it was indeed no easy thing to make a hasty choice. Both were graceful as panthers and both seemed perfectly at home and fully confident. Frank’s face was grave and pleasant, while Darleton wore a faint smile that bespoke his perfect trust in himself. Frank’s friends were all together in a body. Among them Harry Rattleton was the only one who expressed anxiety. “I know Merry could do that fellow ordinarily,” said Rattles, in a whisper; “but I fear he’s out of trim now. Darleton is in perfect practice, and he will bet the guest of Merry—I mean get the best of him!” “Don’t you believe it!” hissed Hodge. “Don’t you ever think such a thing for a second! Merry may not be at his best, but he is that fellow’s master. He has enough skill to hold Darleton even, and he has the master mind. The master mind will conquer.” “I hope you’re right,” said Harry; “but I’m afraid.” “Don’t be afraid!” growled Browning, also aroused. “You make me tired!” Thus crushed, Rattles relapsed into silence, but he watched with great anxiety, fearing the outcome. At the outset the two fencers seemed “feeling each other”—that is, each tried to test the skill, technique and versatility of his opponent. Both were calm, cool and calculating, yet quick as a flash to meet and checkmate any fresh mode of attack. Ordinarily the spectators might have become impatient over this “fiddling,” but on this occasion all seemed to realize the fencers were working up to the point of genuine struggle by exploring each other’s methods. Besides that the two displayed variety and change enough to maintain unwearied interest in these preliminaries to the real struggle.