Quite a number of spectators had gathered, and Frank Merriwell sauntered up and joined the group.
Professor Rhynas was giving his attention to another department of the gymnasium, and he had left Bascomb to meet all comers and "give them points." Bascomb was not finding it a very easy thing to give Rains many points, although he believed he could knock the fellow down any time he wished to do so by simply letting drive one of his sledgehammer blows.
But Bascomb had not thought of striking Rains with all his strength.
He had discovered that Rains disliked Merriwell, and that was enough to establish a bond of friendship between the big plebe and the lad with whom he was boxing.
Bascomb hated Frank, but he feared him at the same time.
"Nobody seems able to get the best of that fellow," he had thought a hundred times.

"It seems to be bad luck to go against him, and so I am going to keep away from him in the future.

Poor Gage! Merriwell was bad medicine for him." Bascomb was a coward, but he could hate intensely in his two-faced, treacherous way.
The moment Merriwell joined the group, Bascomb noted it.
"He's watching Rains," mentally decided the big plebe.

"He wants to see what the fellow is made of." Rains seemed aware that Merriwell was a spectator, for he braced up and gave Bascomb a merry go for a few minutes, forcing the big fellow back, and seeming to tap him with ease and skill whenever and wherever he chose.
When this little flurry was over, Rains threw off his gloves, and declared he had had enough.
"So have I," said Bascomb, with a grin.

"You're the best man I've put the mittens on with yet.