At about the time Frank fancied Flemming would finish, Frank gave Jack the signal, and they were soon struggling in what seemed to be a good-natured wrestling match. Diamond was really supple and catlike on his feet, and he possessed more than common strength; but he was not Frank Merriwell's match, for, besides being a natural athlete, Frank had developed himself in every way, so that he was really a wonder for a youth of his years. The struggle between Frank and Jack quickly attracted a number of spectators to the spot, and Merriwell was well pleased to see Flemming come down from the ladders and approach, accompanied by Tom Thornton. It seemed that the battle between the wrestling lads became fiercer and fiercer, but at last Jack secured a sudden advantage, and Merriwell went down heavily. "Bah!" Fred Flemming was heard to say. "Those fellows remind me of two awkward cubs. Neither knows the rudiments of scientific wrestling." One leap brought Frank Merriwell to his feet, another leap carried him before Flemming, who was turning away. "Wait a moment, sir," said Frank, his voice cold, clear and distinct. "I believe you consider yourself something of a wrestler, Flemming?" Merriwell had appeared before him so suddenly that Fred started back involuntarily. Then, angry with himself at the recoil, his lips curled scornfully, and he surveyed the other lad in the most haughty and insolent manner. "Get out of my way!" he cried, harshly. "I will not be bothered by you!" The same old smile--the smile that was so dangerous--crept over Merriwell's face. "You think you will not be bothered by me," he said, his voice smooth and soft, "but you deceive yourself. You have taken a fancy to bother me, to revile me behind my back, even to make false statements concerning me, for you have said that I sought your position on the crew and obtained it by underhand means. In the presence of these witnesses you have stated that I am a most bungling wrestler. That is something you cannot deny." "I do not wish to deny it. You are not a wrestler--you know nothing of the art." "And you claim to be a wrestler?" "Yes, I can wrestle." "Then, here and now, I challenge you to wrestle me at side-holds, catch-as-you-can and arm's end, the winner of two out of three falls to be acknowledged the best man, and Hugh Heffiner to be the judge. If you refuse to wrestle, I will brand you as a blower and a braggart--a fellow not fit to be accepted in the society of gentlemen. Your answer, Flemming--your answer!" CHAPTER XIII. THE WRESTLING MATCH. Flemming turned pale and trembled with suppressed passion, while his hands were clinched, and he glared at Merriwell as if he longed to strike the lad who had dared face him and fling such an insulting challenge in his teeth.