“A heart like his is not easily broken. I’ll guarantee that he can take defeat without a murmur.”
“Well, test him—see if he can! You are not done up yet! He was lucky in getting that half-nelson on you. It was pure luck, and nothing else.”
“You are right, and yet—I should not have let him get it! I was trying for the same hold on him.”
“That was how you happened to be thrown off your guard. You were thinking of the hold you wanted more than of preventing him from getting the one he was after.”
“That’s true.”
“If you were to wrestle with him again, you could defeat him. If you beat him at one of the three contests, you will have an opportunity to challenge him for another trial at everything. Your only hope now is to do him up in the boxing-match.”
Packard’s words gave Hawkins hope, and the fellow swiftly braced up.
After a short rest, preparations were made for the final encounter. Hawkins was permitted to select his gloves. By mutual understanding, it was decided that the rules governing amateur glove-contests should be obeyed, and there should be none of the French method of “boxing with the feet.”
They advanced and stood face to face. Their hands touched, and then they were on guard, sparring for an opening.
Again Hawkins was at his best, for he realized that his only hope for another trial with Frank lay in the success of this encounter.