though they
are."

"Wait!" advised the timid professor. "Perhaps they will kill each other,
and then our part will be easy."

Frank was not for waiting, but, at that moment, something happened that
caused him to change his plan immediately.

The fighting ruffians were using knives in a deadly way, and one man,
bleeding from many wounds, fell exhausted to the ground. Another, who
seemed to be this one's comrade, tore himself from the other three,
leaped to the girl, caught her in his arms, and held her in front of
him, so that her body shielded his. Then, pointing a revolver over her
shoulder, he snarled:

"Come on, and I'll bore the three of ye! You can't shoot me, Gage,
unless you kill ther gal!"

The youngest one of the party, a mere boy, but a fellow with the air of
a desperado, stepped to the front, saying swiftly:

"If you don't drop that girl, Jaggers, you'll leave your carcass in this
swamp! That is business, my hearty."

Frank clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from uttering a great shout
of amazement. The next moment he panted:

"This is fate! Look, Barney! by the eternal skies, that is Leslie Gage,
my worst enemy at Fardale Academy, and the fellow who ran away to keep
from being expelled. It was reported that he had gone to sea."

"Ye're roight, Frankie," agreed the no less excited Irish lad. "It's
thot skunk, an' no mistake!"

"It is Leslie Gage," agreed the professor. "He was ever a bad boy, but I
did not think he would come to this."

"An' Oi always thought he would come to some bad ind. It wur thot
spalpane thot troied to run Frank through with a sharpened foil wan
toime whin they wur fencing. He had black murder in his hearrut thin,
an' it's not loikely th' whilp has grown inny betther since."

"Keep still," whispered Frank. "Let's hear what is said."

The man with the girl laughed defiantly, retorting:

"You talk big, Gage, but it won't work with me. I hold the best hand
just at present, and you'll have to come to terms. Keep back!"

"You don't dare shoot," returned the young desperado, as he took still
another step toward the sailor.

In a moment the man placed the muzzle of the revolver against the temple
of the helpless girl, fiercely declaring:

"If you come another inch, I'll blow her brains out!"

"The dastard!" grated Frank. "Oh, the wretch! Wait. I will fix him, or
my name is not Merriwell!"

He drew an arrow from the quiver, and fitted the notch to the
bow-string. His