A gasp of astonishment came from the watching sophomores.  Never had they seen three blows delivered in such lightning-like rapidity, but their ears had not fooled them, and they heard each blow distinctly.

Merriwell’s guard was perfect, his pose was light and professional, and he suddenly seemed catlike on his feet.

Diamond was astonished, but only for an instant.  The tapping blows started his blood, and he sprang toward his foe, striking out with his left and then with his right.

Merriwell did not attempt to guard, but he dodged both blows with ease, and then smiled sweetly into the face of the baffled Virginian.

“Oh, say!” chuckled Harry Rattleton, hugging himself in delighted anticipation, “just you fellows wait a minute!  Diamond will think he has been struck by an earthquake!”

Bruce Browning, himself a scientific boxer, was watching every movement of the two freshmen.  He turned to Puss Parker at his side and said: 

“Merriwell handles himself like an old professional.  By Jove!  I believe there’s good stuff in that fellow!”

“Diamond would like to kill Merriwell,” said Parker.  “You can see it in his face and eyes.”

In truth there was a deadly look in the eyes of the pale-faced young Virginian.  His lips were pressed together, and a hardening of the jaws told that his teeth were set.  He was following Merriwell up, and the latter was avoiding him with ease.  Plainly Diamond meant to corner the lad he hated and then force the fighting to a finish.

The rivals were nearly of a height and they wore built much alike, although Frank had slightly the better chest development.

Merriwell seemed to toy with Diamond, giving him several little pat-like blows on the breast and in the ribs.  When the Virginian felt that he had Frank cornered he was astonished to see Merriwell slip under his arm and come up laughing behind him.

Merriwell’s laughter filled Diamond’s very soul with gall and wormwood.

“Wait!” he thought.  “He laughs best who laughs last.”

“Give it to him, Frank!” urged Rattleton.  “You’ll get out of wind dodging about, and then it will not be so easy to finish him off.”

But Frank saw that in a scientific way Diamond was no match for him, and he disliked to strike the fellow.  He regretted very much that the unfortunate affair had come about, and he felt that there could be no satisfaction in whipping the Southerner.

Merriwell hoped to toy with Diamond till the latter should see that his efforts were fruitless and give up in disgust.

But he did not yet recognize the kind of stuff of which John Diamond was built.

“Come! come!” impatiently called one of the spectators.  “Quit ducking and dodging and get into the game.”

“That’s right! that’s right!” chorused several.  “This is no sport.”

“And it’s no six-day walking match,” sneered Roland Ditson.  “Merriwell seems afraid to stand up and face Diamond.”