the show!”

Down the aisle rushed two policemen, clambering over the footlights and onto the stage.

The actors, directed by the manager, had torn Frank and “Legree” apart. Merriwell flung off those who attempted to hold him, and stood there in their midst.

“Arrest him!” commanded Haley.

A long, lank, awkward youth came scaling over the footlights from the midst of the band. With two long strides he reached Merriwell and planted himself by Frank’s side.

“Hold on, b’gosh!” he cried, flourishing the brass horn he carried. “You don’t arrest him in a hurry!”

Out from the wings rushed a fat lad, with a blackened face. He took a position on the other side of Frank.

“Yaw, py shimminy!” he gurgled! “he don’d arrest you a hurry in alretty.”

Frank’s friends were on hand. Ephraim and Hans were there.

Barnaby Haley gasped with surprise, and the policemen hesitated a moment.

“What’s this? what’s this?” spluttered the manager.

“Business, by gum!” declared the Vermonter.

“Yaw!” nodded Hans, “id peen pusiness.”

“This man attacked Storms.”

“Waal, I guess it was a gol darn good thing for Havener that he did. Mebbe Storms has fixed Havener anyhaow.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jest take a look at Havener an’ you’ll find aout.”

“Uncle Tom” was lying where he had fallen, and a hasty examination showed he was unconscious, while blood was flowing from a wound on his head, caused by the blow from the butt of the whip.

Haley, who had not seen the encounter between the two actors, was dazed.

“Who did it?” he asked.

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