He glared at Frank, who was now sitting with his back against the wall, having drawn himself into that position. “We’d better be lively if that girl is free,” said Sam, nervously. “There is no telling what she may do.” They advanced on Frank, but stopped in surprise, as he suddenly shot up to standing position, with his back against the wall. There was a look in the eyes of the captive that warned them he was not in a submissive mood. “Grab him, fellers!” ordered Joe Hooker. “Strip his clothes off! We’ll have the tar and feathers onto him in less than five minutes! We’ll fix him!” He sprang at Frank, but out shot one of Merry’s feet, striking Joe in the stomach and hurling him backward with terrific force. The fellow dropped to the floor, where he lay gasping, grunting and groaning, apparently badly hurt. Sam Hooker gave a howl of rage when he saw what had happened to his brother. He had fancied Merriwell was beyond making further resistance, but now he saw his mistake. However, the fate that had befallen Joe did not render him cautious. Uttering fierce language, he rushed at Merry. In France Frank Merriwell had learned to “box with his feet,” having taken lessons from a Frenchman who was an expert in the art. Frank had realized the value of being able to use his feet scientifically in a rough-and-tumble fight, and now his acquirement stood him in good stead. Joe Hooker had been kicked in the stomach, but his brother received a kick under the chin that fairly lifted him off the floor. Sam went down with a crash. The masked ruffians were astounded. They stared at Frank as if unable to believe a youth whose hands were tied behind his back had upset the terrible Hooker brothers so quickly and easily. “Go—for—him!” groaned Joe, catching his breath in gasps. “Kill him! Smash him!” Frank Merriwell laughed! It was the old-time ringing laugh of defiance. “Come on!” he invited. “My hands are helpless, but I fancy I am a match for all of you, so long as I can see. Come on!” The masked ruffians hesitated. “Make a dive for him all at once!” cried one of them. “Ready!” “Ready!” said the others. “Now!” At him they leaped. They had expected that he would stand still, but he did nothing of the kind. He ducked and darted between them. Then he whirled and raised one of them into the air with a terrible kick. Clinging to his jaw and snarling like a furious animal, Sam Hooker struggled to his feet, meaning to take part in the struggle. Frank saw the fellow getting up. “I’d rather have a good lift at you than anybody else!” cried Merry. He got what he wanted. The kick he gave Sam Hooker threw the fellow full upon the stove, and his head struck in the pan of hot tar. Over the stove to the floor went Sam, tar and all. Then the most frightful howls of pain issued from the throat of the ruffian. He rolled about on the floor, clawing at his face and eyes, and roaring with pain.