Then about fifty boys jumped up in the gallery and yelled like a lot of wild Indians. Immediately after his enter, Frank’s lines caused him to threaten to fling the villain of the piece out of the house, whereupon the villain drew a revolver. This was the weapon Frank had loaded with bullet-bearing cartridges. Merry sprang on Garland and wrested the revolver from his hand, while Ephraim looked on in apparent terror. While this brief struggle was taking place, Sam Hooker rose to his feet, roaring: “Whoop! He’s a purty lively maverick, but I’m ther puncher ter put my brand on him. First I’ll rope him, same as I would a steer. Hyar goes!” Round and round his head he swung a lariat, and then he quickly made the throw. The man’s words had warned Merry that the time for action had come. With the loaded revolver in his hand, he sprang back from Garland. The noose of the lasso came shooting through the air. Quick as thought, Frank lifted the revolver and fired a single shot. The bullet cut the rope, and the noose fell harmlessly at the feet of the young actor! It was over in the twinkling of an eye, and the ruffianly cowboy stood there with the useless end of the cut rope in his hands, dazed and bewildered by what had happened. The audience was startled, and Frank saw that the people must be calmed at once, so he immediately stepped to the footlights and began to speak: “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “there is no real cause for alarm. Please keep your seats. The attempt of this ruffian with the rope to break up the performance has proved a failure. This is his third attack to-day upon me. I fancied I had taught him a lesson, but he does not seem to have sense enough to know it. Now, if there is an officer present, I wish he would remove the man from the house. The performance will then go on.” “Waal, dern my eyes!” muttered Sam Hooker, having drawn in the rope and examined the severed end. “Ther critter shot it in two with a bullet!” “Is there an officer present?” asked Frank, from the stage. “You needn’t call fer an officer,” said Sam Hooker. “I’ll go right out without no trouble. You say I ain’t got sense enough ter know when I’m beat. Mebbe not, but I’ve got sense enough ter know you froze me out on this yar game without half tryin’.” Then the dejected ruffian turned and made for the door, hissed on every hand by the angry audience. When Hooker had disappeared, the performance continued as if nothing had happened. There was not a little excitement among the actors. They bombarded Merriwell with questions at the end of the act. They wanted to know how it happened that he had been aware of Hooker’s intention. On this point he did not enlighten them, but he assured them he had been prepared for any move the ruffian had contemplated.