Now Dick spoke, ever so quietly.
"Mr. Kramer, I understood that you did me the honor to call me out."
"Eh?" muttered that other yearling. "Oh, yes; so I did. Whenever you're ready, mister!"
"If Mr. Edwards and Mr. Jennison are willing," returned the plebe coolly, "I'm ready as soon as Mr. Spurlock has been carried away."
"Oho, mister! B.j. to the end, are you?"
"No, sir; only anxious to atone for my b.j.-ety," replied Cadet
Prescott, with a little flash of his eyes.
Anstey had gone below with Devine, to render any help that could be given.
"This is rather unusual, mister," suggested Mr. Edwards, glancing at his watch. "However, if you really feel fit, and if it suits Mr. Kramer—"
"Oh, anything will suit me," returned the yearling. Truth to tell, Kramer wasn't by any means sure that he could whip this crafty plebe. But the issue had been thrown fairly in his teeth. Moreover, the honor of the yearling class was now at stake, and Kramer wasn't the man to go back on his class.
"Listen, gentlemen," broke in Mr. Edwards. "This affair started a little ahead of the time set. It is now nine-fifteen. In ten minutes or less, we can have Mr. Spurlock on his way to cadet hospital. Then, if you two mix it up spicily, we can have the affair over by nine-forty. In any case I shall have to call the fight by that time, and decide it a draw, if necessary. What say you?"