"Be careful!" some one distinctly whispered. "We do not want to kill
more than one freshman in a night."

Some one else spoke of the frightful manner in which the knife had cut
Merriwell, and then, despite his feeble struggles, Diamond was placed
upon the instrument of torture.

"The other fresh died game," muttered the executioner. "Of course we
didn't mean to kill him, but the knife is out of order and it slipped by
accident. We haven't time to fix it properly, but there are only about
nine chances out of ten that it will fall again."

"Oh, you fellows shall pay for this!" feebly gasped Diamond.

Despite himself, although he knew how unlikely such a thing was, he
could not help wondering if a terrible accident had really happened. If
not, where was Merriwell. He looked around, but saw nothing of Frank,
who was keeping in the background.

And then, when his nerves had been quite unstrung, the knife fell, the
ice and warm water were applied, and Diamond could not choke back the
cry of horror that forced itself from his lips.

A roar of laughter broke from the masked students.

When Diamond was lifted to his feet he was almost too weak to stand. He
clinched his teeth, vowing over and over to himself that he would find a
way to square accounts.

"If it takes me a year, I'll find out who the leaders in this affair