Quick as a flash, he struck Frank in the face with his clinched fist. A gasp came from those who witnessed this act. There was no time given for further words. Like a leaping panther, Frank Merriwell shot up and alighted on Duncan Yates. He clutched Yates in his strong grasp, snapped him off his feet, swung him into the air. The spectators had fallen back in a wild sort of scramble to get out of the way. Thus enough room was made for Merriwell to act. It was a warm day, and the car door was open. Almost before any one could tell what Frank thought of doing, he leaped out through the doorway, and, with the lad who had delivered the blow still poised above his head, seemed on the verge of hurling Yates from the flying train! "Stop, Frank!" Diamond shouted the words. Cries of horror broke from the lips of the other spectators of the scene, but, strangely enough, none of them made a move to prevent Merriwell from carrying out his apparent purpose. If Merriwell flung Yates from the train the unfortunate lad who had aroused Frank's wrath must be instantly killed. At first, when he had felt himself clutched, Yates had struggled, but, to his amazement, he seemed like a child in the grasp of the infuriated athlete. As Frank reached the platform and poised Yates aloft, the latter seemed to realize his peril, and fear robbed him of nerve and strength. He was limp and helpless in Merriwell's grasp. And then, almost as quickly as Frank had caught the lad up, he lowered him to his feet. Again Merriwell laughed, but this time there really seemed to be something of amusement in the sound. "If I had dropped you off, Mr. Yates, you must have been injured," he said, and his voice was soft and gentle. Yates gasped. "Jee!" chattered Bink Stubbs. "That was a regular hair-raiser, as the fellow said when he finished the blood-and-thunder story." Yates swayed and caught at the iron rail. The flush had gone out of his face, which was ashen-gray. "Better go into the car," said Merriwell. "You seem rather unsteady, and you might fall off here." Without a word, Yates steadied himself by taking hold of the side of the door, and entered the car. Merriwell followed, taking out his handkerchief and pressing it lightly to the spot on his cheek where a slight bruise marked the spot that had felt the enraged lad's fist. The witnesses of this scene seemed to breathe freely for the first time. They stared at Frank as if his marvelous display of strength had been a revelation to them. Yates had plenty of friends, as he had never seemed a bad sort of fellow, but the fact that he had struck Merriwell while the latter was sitting down was against him. "He's been drinking," one declared. "Merriwell could not have handled him that way otherwise." "Did Merriwell really mean to throw him off?" asked another.