Apparently Frank did not see it, but the truth was that nothing escaped his eyes. He knew now beyond question that the captain of the lacrosse team, who had pretended such friendship, was the one who had planned to have him beaten up by the slugger. Although his heart was hot with anger over Fillmore’s treachery, he did not betray his feelings by any outward sign. Hodge was attending to Frank in his corner, giving him a drink and mopping his perspiring face with a sponge. “Don’t fool around too long, Merry,” he said guardedly. “I’m afraid you’ll betray the fact that you’re not half the mark they’ve taken you for.” “I’m not going to fool any longer,” answered Merry. “I shall go after him now. I’ve fathomed his style of fighting, and I think I know his weak points.” Thirty seconds were quickly over. Clang! Galway rose instantly and advanced, while again Frank was slow about coming to the scratch. The slugger engaged in earnest, going after Merry with the idea of quickly keeping his promise to Fillmore. He led at Merriwell’s head. The blow was skillfully parried, and out shot Frank’s right. Smack! The blow sounded clear and solid, and it sent Husker Galway reeling. “Oh!” cried half the spectators. Merriwell followed the bruiser up with such swiftness that Galway was given no time to recover. Again Merry hit him—again and again, knocking him onto the ropes. Fred Fillmore gasped with unspeakable amazement, while Tom Hackett’s eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets. No one could have been more astonished than Galway. He was surprised because the youth had been able to hit him at all, and he was still more surprised by the “steam” behind those blows. “Yah! yah! yah!” laughed Black Tom. “I done thought it was bery strange dat gemman got so full on what he was drinkin’.” Galway recovered and rose from the ropes. His eyes glared and his face had the ugly look of a man infuriated to the point of some black deed. “So you can hit?” he snarled, as he danced away. “Come again! Try it some more!” Merry accepted the invitation, but the pugilist was on guard now, and it was not so easy to hit him. Besides that, Galway did some leading himself, and Frank had to look out for himself. The slugger reached Frank’s chin, but Merry had leaped back, and the blow was light. “Nearly got him then, Husker!” cried one of the students. “Look out for that wallop! Look out for that wallop, Merriwell!” shouted Ludley. “He puts the best of ’em out with it!” Frank was looking out for it. He knew the fighter had a dangerous left, and it was his hope to keep him from landing full and fair with one of those heavy swings. Galway followed up. There was a bit of sharp sparring and then a clinch. “Break!” yelled the referee. They broke promptly enough this time, but again Frank shot out a lightning left and reached his antagonist’s jaw. “Look out for that in the breakaway, Gal!” warned one of the spectators.