Baxter did not stop until he reached his dormitory. He sank into a chair, and, later on, bathed his swollen face and eyes.
“He’s a pretty hard fighter,” said Paxton.
“Pooh! I am not afraid of him, Nick,” growled the bully. “The truth is I—I shouldn’t have tried to fight to-day,” he went on, lamely. “I’m not feeling well. My—er—my stomach is all out of order.”
“I knew there must be something the matter,” said Paxton, sympathetically. “You didn’t hit out like I expected.”
“Wait till I’m myself; I’ll lay him out cold,” said the bully, boastingly.
But for the present he was content to keep out of Jack’s sight, and in public he said little about the contest. Behind it all he was frightened.
“I’ve got to be careful how I go at him,” he told himself. “He knows how to handle his fists better than I thought.”
After the fight matters remained quiet for some time to come. A brisk wind cleared some of the snow from the lake, and the cadets spent a large portion of their off time in skating. Some of the cadets built themselves ice-boats, and had not a little fun in sailing up and down the lake shore. One ice-boat was the property of Dale and Harry Blossom, and on an afternoon Coulter, Paxton, and Mumps made off with the craft, without asking permission to use it.
“That is what I call nerve!” Dale declared, when he heard the news. “Just wait till they get back! I’ll give them a piece of my mind!”
“And so will I!” added Harry. “Our friends can use the ice-boat if they wish, but not such fellows as Paxton, Coulter, and Mumps.”