of the villains.

Then the jimmy descended, and though the Westerner tried to knock the
blow aside, his arm was beaten down, and the jimmy fell on his head with
crushing force. Badger's head seemed to split open under that blow, and
a blur of blood and mistiness followed. He felt himself reeling and
sinking, with his feet slipping on the stairway, toward which he had
fallen. Then he dropped like an ox in the shambles.

But before complete unconsciousness came, he heard the shout of a
well-known voice--the voice of Frank Merriwell!

Merriwell came upon the scene from a corridor, having been drawn by the
calls and the pistol-shots, and with marvelous quickness and certainty
grasped the whole intent of what he beheld.

Fairfax Lee struck aside the revolver that was pointed at Frank, and
again began to call for help. The next instant Merriwell was in the
thick of the fight. Though no man could have understood his peril more
perfectly, there was at that moment in Merriwell's heart a wild thrill
of joy. He laughed as he struck at the nearest ruffian--a laugh that
sounded strangely out of place.

The blow fell with crushing force, and the ruffian tumbled backward
against the wall. Before Merriwell could turn, two of the other three
ruffians were on his back. One had drawn a knife and the other had the
jimmy. The remaining burglar was on the stairs, and was lifting a
revolver. Merriwell lunged toward him, and the man, instead of firing,
lost his footing, and went tumbling down the steps.

Inasmuch as he had a revolver, he seemed the most dangerous, and Frank
leaped after him, dragging with him the scoundrels who were trying to
strike him from behind. But the terrible fall knocked the breath out of
the burglar, and he slid helplessly on down the stairway, letting the
revolver go bumping and clattering to the floor below. Merriwell wheeled
with lightning quickness to meet the man with the threatening jimmy.

Badger seemed to be slipping down the stairway, also. Then Frank saw him
lift himself and try to stagger to his feet. Without taking further note
of this, Merriwell promptly closed with the other burglar on the stairs.

"Shoot him, Bill!" the fellow cried, to his pal above.

But that worthy, believing that "he who fights and runs away may live to
fight another day," was making tracks for the nearest window, intending
to leap to the ground.

The burglar who had closed with Frank, endeavored to trip him, with the
re