“Let the other fellows take care of him,” said Harry.  “We’ll rub you down.  You need it.  Got any towels, Mr. Horner?”

“Guess we can find one or two,” cheerfully answered Tad.  “Come on, Merriwell.  We’ll fix you up.”

Frank followed them into the room where the captured freshmen had been confined, and there they found running water, an old iron sink, a tin wash basin, and some towels.

The visitor was stripped and given a brisk and thorough rubbing and sponging by Harry and Tad.

Bruce Browning, with his mask still over his face, came loafing in and looked the stripped freshman over with a critical eye.  He inspected Frank from all sides, poked him with his fingers, felt of his arms and legs, surveyed the muscles of his back and chest, and then stood off and took him all in at a glance.

“Humph!” he grunted.

Frank’s delicate pink skin glowed, and he looked a perfect Apollo, with a splendid head poised upon a white, shapely neck.  Never had he looked handsomer in all his life than he did at that moment, stripped to the buff, his brown hair frowsled, his body glowing from the rubbing.

“By Jove!” cried Tad Horner, who was sometimes called Baby, “he’s a Jim Hickey—­eh, old man?”

The interrogation was directed at Browning.

“Humph!” grunted Bruce, and then with his hands in his pockets he loafed out of the room.

Afterward it was reported that Browning said the freshman was the finest-put-up chap he had ever seen, but he didn’t want to give him the swelled head by telling him so.

By the time Merriwell was well rubbed down one of the freshmen came in and reported that Diamond had come around all right.

“They’re going to bring him in here and give him a rubbing,” said the freshman.

Frank hastened to get into his clothes, in order that Diamond might have a chance.  Rattleton had brushed the dirt and sawdust off those clothes, so they looked pretty well, and Merriwell showed no traces of what he had passed through when he stepped out of the little room.

Some of the boys were trying to induce Diamond to be rubbed down, but he objected, declaring he was going directly to his room.  The blood had been washed from his face, and one or two cuts had been patched up with court-plaster, but his eyes were nearly closed, and he presented a pitiful appearance.

Frank hesitated a moment, and then he stepped up to his foe, saying in a manner most sincere: 

“Old man, I am sorry this affair took place.  I had the advantage, because I have taken boxing lessons, but you made a beautiful fight.  I hold no hard feelings.  Let’s call it quits and shake.”

He held out his hand.

Diamond’s reply was to turn his back squarely on the proffered hand.

An additional flush arose to Merriwell’s cheeks, and he dropped his hand by his side, turning away without another word.