It happened that, as he was perched on the shoulders of his friends and admirers, Frank Merriwell saw Flemming and Thornton in the further end of the car.

Merriwell would not have given his enemies more than a passing glance, but it occurred that he saw and recognized the man who was talking to Flemming.

"It is the scoundrel who tried to bribe me!" muttered Frank, angrily. "And he is with Flemming and Thornton! I fancy I smell a mouse."

Then he forced his friends to put him down, and, the moment he was on his feet, he hastened along the aisle toward the end of the car, having called Diamond to follow him.

The plotters saw Frank coming, and the expression on his face told them that there was a storm brewing.

"By Jove!" fluttered Thornton, in alarm; "he looks as if he means to thump somebody!"

Although he did not show it, Flemming was not a little alarmed by Merriwell's angry appearance.

Several of the students gathered about the crew saw there was something in the wind, and they followed Merriwell and Diamond down the crowded aisle.

Halting within a short distance of his enemies, Frank pointed straight at the stranger and cried:

"There he is! Take a good look at him, boys! That is the creature who tried to bribe me to throw the ball game to Harvard!"

His words rang through the car, and were heard by every one. The uproar and excitement that followed was quite unexpected by Frank.

A wild shout of anger broke from the college lads, and there was a scramble for that end of the car.

"Mob the wretch!"

"Thump him!"

"Choke him!"

"Don't let him get away!"

These cries broke from the crowd of lads, who strove in mad haste to get at the stranger.

"Great Christopher!" gasped Tom Thornton, in terror. "I'm going to get out of this! It's altogether too hot for me!"

Then he tried to slip away.

Flemming did not know what to do. The manner of the angry lads was alarming, and he saw no reason why he should defend a man who was quite unknown to him.

But the stranger did not wait to be defended. With a wild shout, that was like the war whoop of an Indian, he leaped up and lunged straight into the crowd, striking out right and left.

In less than ten seconds a general fight was taking place in that end of the car. Jack Diamond, who had a grudge against Tom Thornton, collared Tom as he was trying to slip away.

"Hold on!" cried the Virginian. "You can't play the sneak in that way! I saw you talking with that scoundrel! Did you and Flemming set him on to bribe Merriwell?"

"I don't know anything about it!" protested Tom, struggling. "Let go, Diamond!"

"Well, not in a hurry!" returned Jack. "I don't know where the money came from, but I believe you and Flemming tried to ruin Merriwell by bribing him to throw a game and then exposing him. If that was the trick, you fooled yourselves. Frank Merriwell is not that kind of a fellow!"

With a fierce exclamation, Thornton struck savagely at Jack's face, but Diamond dodged the blow.

"Oh, you will, will you!" he cried, and then he gave Thornton a terrible thump between the eyes.

In another moment they were at it fiercely.

Although Flemming was a big fellow with a reputation as a bully, Harry Rattleton had not hesitated to lay hands on him.

"You're a chine fap—I mean a fine chap!" shouted Harry. "So you are concerned in this attempted bribery!"

"Get out!" snarled Flemming. "I'll break your nose!"

"Break it!" invited Rattleton. "I'll try to do a little something while you are about it!"

Flemming waited to say not another word, but, quick as a flash, he did strike Harry a heavy blow on the jaw. Rattleton was staggered, but he held on to Flemming. A moment later both were swept down by the rush of the crowd.

It was something of a blind fight, and it waged with great fierceness, although in an aimless manner, for some moments. Several of the windows in the car were broken.

Bob Collingwood waded into the midst of the struggling mass of human beings, scattering them with his powerful arms, and crying:

"Here, stop this senseless scrapping! Where is the fellow who tried to bribe Merriwell?"

Where, indeed? All looked around for him, but he was gone. In some manner he had made his escape in the midst of the tumult.

"He must be on the train!" cried Frank. "He can't escape from the train till it stops! Here—I have his coat! He left it in my hands when the crowd tore us apart."

Merriwell held up the garment.

"He must be in the car back of this!" declared Collingwood. "I want to see him—I want to get a fair look at his face."

"I'd like to do something else to his face!" shouted another student. "Think of any one offering a Yale pitcher money to throw a game to Harvard!"

This brought a mad howl from the angry students.

Rattleton and Flemming had been torn apart during the struggle, and Thornton and Diamond were separated, but not until Jack had thumped the fellow he disliked, and done it several times.

Both Flemming and Thornton were forgotten. The excited students rushed out by the open door, and crowded into the rear car, which was the only one on the train to which the unknown man could have escaped.

"Where is he?" was the hoarse shout that went up, as the angry boys packed into the car.

They looked desperate and dangerous, as if they were thirsting for human blood.

At the farther end of the car a man in his shirt-sleeves crouched and muttered:

"Well, derned if I expected to kick up this sort of a rumpus! I've seen all kinds of mobs, but I will allow that this reminds me of a regular Judge Lynch crowd, and no mistake. Never judged a lot of youngsters would get stirred up this way any whatever. They're on a regular rampage."

He kept out of sight as far as possible, feeling that it was the most "healthy" thing to do.

"Where is he?" demanded Collingwood, who was just ahead of Merriwell—"where is the man who belongs to this coat? He must have come in here! Did a man in his shirt sleeves come in here?"

"Yes, yes!" replied several. "What has he been doing?"

"Doing!" roared "Dear Old Bob," flushed with anger. "Why, he is the creature that tried to bribe Merriwell!"

It seemed that this piece of business was generally known, for Collingwood's words produced a roar of indignation.

Down at the rear end of the car a young man stood up and shouted:

"This way! Here he is! He can't get away!"

Then it seemed that the students all spotted their game at the same moment, and there was a fierce scramble for that end of the car.

The hunted man saw them coming, and a desperate look settled on his face.

"I'd as lief fall into the clutches of a whole tribe of Apache Indians!" he gasped. "They're after my scalp for sure!"

He leaped to the door, and tore it open.

"Stop!" rang out the voice of Frank Merriwell. "You cannot escape, for you will be killed if you leap from the train!"

The man hesitated one moment. He saw the college lads rushing down the aisle, and then, although the train was making a speed of at least forty miles an hour, he descended the steps.

Collingwood and Merriwell came out through the open door. As they reached the platform, they saw the man clinging in the darkness at the foot of the steps. He was in a crouching position, his hands clasping the iron holds. In the gloom his face seemed fully as white as the sleeves of his shirt, which fluttered in the breeze.

"For Heaven's sake, don't jump!" cried Frank.

Collingwood tried to grasp the man by the arm. As he did so, the mysterious man dropped from the steps, instantly disappearing in the darkness.

"He's gone!" gasped Frank, horrified.

"Yes, he is gone!" said Collingwood, hoarsely. "That's the end of him, for surely he was killed when he struck the ground!"