“We had better call it a draw now, had we not?” begged Davis during a lull. “You’ve had enough. I don’t want to hurt you more.”
“No!” bellowed Kester, enraged at the suggestion. “Not till I’ve put you to sleep for the rest of the night.”
“Then we had better end it right here. This for Hickey—and this for me!”
The men said afterwards that they saw no blows struck, but that they heard two distinct impacts. What they did see was Kester hurled clear across the ring, after two eight-ounce gloves had landed on the very point of his jaw, directed by all the strength of Dan Davis’s well-trained muscles.
Kester went clear through the ropes.
“Catch him!” shouted Dan.
Others had discovered the defeated bully’s danger. Half a dozen tars sprang to his rescue. Already Bill Kester’s head and shoulders were through the ship’s rope railing, and in another second he would plunge headlong into the sea.
CHAPTER XVIII—THE ORDERLY TAKES A HEADER
“He’s going overboard!” roared a chorus of voices. “Nail him!”