“Oh, I’m all right,” was the reply. “I’ll fix you yet; see if I don’t.”
Once more the pair went at it, hammer and tongs. Blows flew thick and fast, but to the majority of the boys it was easily to be seen that Jack was getting the better of it. Baxter was almost winded, and stood up with difficulty. He felt that another blow or two would make him fall. Watching his chance, he tipped a wink to Paxton.
“Cheese it! Here comes one of the teachers!” called out Paxton. “Run for it unless you want to be caught.”
The cry was taken up on all sides, even though nobody saw the teacher. At once Dan Baxter stepped back and reached for his collar and coat.
“I’ll fix you another time, Jack Ruddy,” he muttered, and hurried away before the young major could reply.
Slipping on his own coat and adjusting his collar, Jack gazed around and then, with his chums, walked toward the gymnasium.
“That was a fake, I believe,” said he. “I don’t see anybody.”
“Paxton gave the alarm,” came from Dale.
“Baxter winked at him—I saw him do it,” said Stuffer. “I guess he wanted to stop. He was pretty dizzy. Another blow or two would have finished him.”
“Never mind, I’ll finish him some other time,” answered Jack. “He won’t behave himself until he is well whipped.”