Frank arose hastily, his face quite calm and expressionless. He did not betray satisfaction or triumph, but his manner indicated that what had happened was no more than he had fully expected. He had confidence in himself, which any one must have to be successful, but still he was not overconfident, which is a fault quite as much as timidity.
Flemming sat up. He had felt himself lifted from his feet with a twisting movement, and he had felt himself whirled in the air, but still he could not understand how the feat had been accomplished.
Shame caused the hot blood to rush into his face, and he ground his teeth together, his whole body quivering.
"It was an accident--it must have been an accident!" he told himself. "I tried to throw him so heavily that I overreached myself."
The look on Merriwell's face cut him like a keen knife and made him feel a fierce longing for the next tussle.
"They actually think he threw me, when I threw myself," was his thought; "but I will undeceive them in a moment. Next time I will drive him into the earth beneath me! There'll be no further miscalculation."
"How in the world did you happen to let him take a fall out of you in that manner?" whispered Tom, in extreme disgust.
"Yes, you were, my dear fellow! Heffiner has given Merriwell credit for winning the first fall."
"I made a misjudgment in the amount of strength I should use on the fellow, and I turned myself in the air," declared Fred.
"Of course it is!" hissed Flemming, who saw the incredulity in the face of his friend. "He is even easier fruit than I imagined."
Thornton brightened up somewhat, although not fully satisfied.
"You must not let him accomplish it this time."
"I tell you he did not accomplish it before!" came bitterly from the crestfallen and furious youth. "I will convince you of that in a moment. See the fellow stand there with that lordly air as if he had actually accomplished something. I will take all of that out of him! This is catch as we can, and I will break his back!"
"Injure his back in some way, and he will not be able to hold the place that belongs to you on the crew."
"That is right!" panted Flemming, his eyes glittering and his teeth showing. "A fellow with a sprained back is no good at an oar. Why, Thornton, my boy! Merriwell has played right into my hands! He has given me the very opportunity I most desire, and I'll be a chump if I neglect it! If he is not taken to his room on a stretcher, it will be necessary for some of his friends to aid him. I know a hug that will take the stiffness out of his spine and make him lame for a month!"