Frank seemed seeking another opening. In a few seconds he found it and his fist shot out. Smack! The blow landed squarely. Manton went to the turf. He rose more slowly, but he forced himself to get up, although the ground was unsteady beneath his feet. “He’s done for!” groaned Frost, as he saw his friend stagger. He leaped in and caught Manton by the arm. “Quit it!” he said. “You’re out!” “You lie!” snarled the gentleman pugilist, flinging Dent off and seeming as steady as ever. “I’ve just begun to fight!” Once more Frank waited until his enemy closed in. Then he took his time and knocked the fellow down for the finish. Manton lay still a moment, tried to rise, struggled to his elbow and fell back. “He’s out!” cried Frost huskily, as he lifted Manton’s head. CHAPTER VIII. A PAIR OF KNAVES. About four miles from the Eagle Heights club lived Joel Bemis, a farmer. On the afternoon of the day following the events just recorded in the best “spare room” at the Bemis farm sat a young man whose eyes were covered by a bandage and whose face was cut, bruised, and discolored in places. A step sounded outside the door, and the man on the chair started and lifted the bandage from his eyes. “Frost!” he exclaimed, as Dent Frost entered. “Well, you’ve been a devilish long time coming!” “Came at the first opportunity, Manton,” declared the visitor, eying the other. “Say, but you’re a sight! You did let that fellow cut you all to pieces!” “You don’t have to tell me!” snarled Hobart Manton. “I’ve looked in the glass.” “That must have been to-day. You couldn’t see out of your eyes last night.” “What are you trying to do—rub it in?” “Oh, no; but I’m sore because you let him hammer you up that way.” “Not half as sore as I am. I’d like to kill him!” “Why, I thought you could fight!” “I can.” “It looked that way!” sneered Frost coldly. “I can,” repeated Manton; “but he can fight better. I hate to acknowledge it, but I have to.” “He certainly made a holy spectacle of you.” “I’ll get even! You wait!” “I don’t know how you’re going to do it.” “I’ll find a way! I’ve thought of a hundred ways. I haven’t had anything else to do. Tell me, what do they say at the club? I suppose they know all about it? Of course Merriwell and Hodge had to blow about it.” “I don’t believe they have said a thing. I told everybody who asked questions that you were called to the city on business. I think Fuller succeeded in inducing Merriwell and Hodge to keep still for the present. Cleaves hasn’t said anything. He doesn’t like those chaps.” “But he’s wishy-washy; he doesn’t hate them. I didn’t hate them to begin with. I counted Merriwell a big case of bluff, and I wanted to show him up. This is the result!” Manton was bitter enough. He realized his mistake, but felt deeply the disgrace he had brought upon himself. It made no difference that he was wholly to blame for the whole unpleasant affair.