The visitors skipped back, in order to leave the combatants plenty of room for footwork. Since Jetson had heard definite announcement of the fact that he could not hope to be called to the Navy eleven, his inward flame of passion had burned up high. He was now ready to fight with all the force that there was in him.
In the first few seconds his assault was so resolute that Dalzell was forced to give ground. As he slowly retreated and shifted, Jetson drove in more impetuously than ever.
Midshipman Dan found himself at last in a position of advantage.
"Now, hammer him, Danny boy!" advised; Farley, breathing deeply.
"Silence among the spectators," warned Hepson in a low, stern voice.
"Absolutely fair play, gentlemen, to both contestants!"
Again the showering exchange of blows. Jetson, after his late rapid expenditure of force and nerve-energy, was now just the least bit confused. Dan landed on one ear, and then against his enemy's chin. Both were hard, dazing blows, though neither left a mark.
Then an uppercut and Dalzell landed on Jetson's jugular. With, a gasp the fellow went down to the floor.
"One, two, three, four—" Hepson began counting.
"Don't bother with the count," begged Dalzell "I'll give him all the time he wants to get to his feet."
Rap-tap-tap-tap! came a banging summons on the door, followed by
Midshipman Joyce's voice demanding: