“We’ve all been through the mill,” declared another. “You ought to stand what we can.” “I’ve heard you know how to box.” “Oh, go ahead! go ahead!” Frank saw through the game now. For some moments he pretended to be anxious to keep out of it; but finally, of a sudden, with seeming drunken courage, he announced that he would put on the gloves with Galway. The students shouted joyously. “Now we’ll see some fun!” they cried. They did! But it was not just the kind of fun they expected. One of the rooms in the huge shed back of the road house was fitted up in a manner that plainly betokened the use to which it had been put more than once. In the centre of the room was a spare platform. On four sides were seats. At the four corners of the open platform were stakes. The platform was inclosed by ropes. Here more than one stiff fight had been pulled off as a boxing bout. Hastings, the proprietor of the place, had no license to run affairs of the sort, but he had a pull with the police, and he had never been molested. Men from Johns Hopkins, the Baltimore Medical College and sometimes youngsters from the City College frequented the place and witnessed the “mills” which took place there. Of course Hastings had not escaped criticism. There had been complaints against him, but through it all he kept at his business and raked in the money the youngsters spent. The boys followed Husker Galway and Merriwell out into the shed. Fillmore was in high spirits. He locked arms with Tom Hackett and chuckled softly over the affair. “Merriwell has a beautiful bun on,” he muttered. “He’ll be a cinch for Husker. And Husker has taken the tip from me to cut him up and give him a black eye or two. Ha! ha! Won’t he be a pretty bird to take back to Inza! She’ll admire him, I don’t think!” “Wish Hodge was going to get his medicine at the same time,” growled Hackett. “Why don’t you pick a fuss with him and do him up?” “What are you thinking of? Didn’t we bring him out here? We’ll have to play the sympathetic. We must make them both believe we’re very sorry over it.” “You’re right, Tom. We’ve got to keep clear of the blame.” Husker Galway stripped down in a hurry, flinging off his clothes with the exception of such garments as were absolutely necessary to cover his nakedness. Merriwell was more deliberate. He moved with a certain slowness and strained precision, as if he was doing everything with a great effort to appear cool and sober. Hodge looked on indifferently, as if he took very little interest in the affair. The students joyously selected a referee and timekeeper. They decided that the bout should be pulled off in rounds of three minutes each, although many were inclined to believe that the first round would be more than enough to end it.