as an uncle who has some
money, and that uncle is paying the fellow's way through Fardale
Academy."

"What do I care about his family, so long as I know him to be a noble
fellow! You forget, sir, that he has twice saved my life!"

"No, I have not forgotten. I do not blame you for being grateful, but
you must know the whole truth about him. Frank Merriwell is a
gambler--he plays cards for money."

"I don't believe it!" were the words that came from Inza's lips, and
sent a thrill of shame through the lad behind the tree.

"But it is true, and I can prove it. I will prove it, too! If I prove
it to your satisfaction, Miss Burrage, will you cut the fellow, and
have nothing to do with him in the future?"

Frank leaned forward, holding his breath, eager to hear the answer.

It came promptly and decisively:

"No!"

Gage caught his breath.

"Do you mean to say you will still be friends with a regular gambler
like Merriwell?" he asked.

"I do not believe Frank Merriwell is a gambler--you can never make me
believe it!"

"But I will bring proof."

"Even then I will believe your proof is hatched up against him."

This made Gage lose his head.

"Why, you are awfully stuck on that cad!" he cried. "You are
altogether too fine a girl for him!"

He suddenly caught her in his arms, and tried to embrace her. She
struggled, and cried out for help.

Like a panther, Frank Merriwell bounded from behind the tree. He
caught Gage by the collar, and tore Inza from his grasp. Then Frank's
fist shot out, landing with a sharp spat right between Leslie's eyes.
A second later Gage came in violent contact with the ground.

"Frank!" exclaimed Inza, as he supported her.

Wat Snell and the two girls with whom he had been talking had witnessed
the entire affair. They now came hurrying toward the spot.

"The miserable cur!" cried Frank. "I will----"

"Don't touch him again!" urged Inza. "Oh, you struck him an awful
blow!"

In truth Frank had given Gage a heavy blow, and it was some seconds
before the fellow made a move. Snell helped him sit up. Leslie put
his hand to his head, and stared in a dazed way at Frank.

"Are you hurt much, old man?" asked Wat, sympathizingly.

"I guess not," mumbled Gage. "What did he strike me with?"

"His fist."

"Why, it seemed like a rock!"

Wat helped him to his feet, and the two stood glaring at Frank, who
regarded them with supreme scorn.

"Shall we sail in and do him up?"