Dick went through a few irregular gymnastics.
"There's one good thing about old ramrod," declared Greg, in a grinning undertone. "He's always ready, every minute of the time!"
Sharply, quickly, now, the combatants were brought face to face.
At the call of time, Dennison sailed in; Dick leaped forward. Dennison was amused, more than half contemptuous over the easiness of the work that he thought had come to him. But he felt in honor bound to make the thing short. In the first place, he had to avenge Dodge. In the second place, it would reflect upon himself if Dennison allowed Prescott to string the battle out.
Some sharp cracks were given and taken, and many more dodged or struck aside, when, up close to the end of the first round, Prescott landed one between the big fellow's eyes that made him see stars.
Right in close Prescott followed, before his opponent could recover.
But the time-keeper's call prevented further doings.
"He's a mosquito, that's all," growled Denison to Nelson, in the corner.
"Go in and swat him, then," grinned Nelson.
"Watch me!"