“Time!” announced the referee. The three minutes were ended.
“It’s a foul. Give the fight to the boy,” shouted the jackies, jumping about excitedly, with difficulty restraining themselves from leaping into the ring and inflicting quick punishment on the bully who had committed the foul.
Kester had taken his corner, but when he saw the temper of the spectators he grew ill at ease.
Dan, in the meantime, had been dragged to his own corner by Hickey, who was now using every effort to bring his companion back to consciousness. This he soon succeeded in doing. Though Dan was dizzy and trembling, he smiled bravely.
“You win the fight on a foul,” announced the referee.
Davis shook his head.
“You do not wish to claim the foul?”
“No; I could not think of it.”
“You wish to go on with the match?”
“Yes, unless Kester is willing to call it a draw.”