Stung, Mr. Quimby made strenuous efforts to pay back with worse coin.
He was still trying when the call of time sounded.
"You didn't half go in after him, Dan," murmured Dave, as the latter and Rollins quickly toweled their man in the corner.
"If I had, I might have gotten more of him than I wanted," muttered
Dalzell.
"Why don't you mix it up faster?" queried Rollins.
"Because," proclaimed Midshipman Dan, "I don't want to fight or get hurt. I'm doing this sort of thing just for exercise, you understand."
Then they were called into the second round. Quimby, in the meantime, had been counseled to crowd the plebe hard, and to hammer him when he got close.
So, now, Quimby started in to do broadside work. At last he scored fairly, hitting Dalzell on the nose and starting the flow.
But, within ten seconds, Dalzell had return the blow with interest. After that things went slowly for a few more seconds, when time was again called.
"That plebe isn't exactly easy," Quimby confided to his seconds. "I've got to watch him, and be cautious. I haven't seen a plebe as cool and ready in many a day."
In the third round Quimby was perhaps too cautious. He did not rush enough. Dan, on the other hand, bore down a bit. Just before the call of time he closed Quimby's right eye.