CHAPTER XVII.
THE BULLY'S MATCH.
A moment of silence followed Bascomb's distinctly-spoken words, and the eyes of nearly every one were turned on Merriwell, to whose face the hot color slowly mounted.
"What's the matter with you, Bascomb ?" he finally asked.

"What do you want to draw me into this affair for?
I don't know as I have any desire to put on the gloves with Rains." The big fellow grinned in a way that was distinctly insulting.
"I don't think you have," he said.

"You wouldn't cut any ice with him." "You may be right; but I don't quite understand how you know, as I have never stood up with you." "Oh, that wasn't necessary; I've seen you spar, and I have your gage.
You don't run in the class with Rains." At this juncture Rains made a move as if he would quiet Bascomb, but the big fellow quickly went on: "I'm not going to keep still any longer.

You're too modest, Rains.
You keep in the background, and let fellows like Merriwell take the lead in everything, when you should be a leader.

You are a better all-round man than Merriwell any day, and you can knock corners off him any time he has nerve enough to put on the mitts with you.