"I'll knock your head off and wind it up!" blazed Ben, darting forward.
Instead of carrying out his programme, Ben received a blow on the nose that staggered him.
"No fair!" howled Ben, retreating. "I hadn't my guard up."
"Your fault, then," mocked Dick.
"All fair," chimed in Hoof. "Stop talking and mix it up."
Ben soon advanced once more, rather disconcerted by the wholly steady bearing of Dick Prescott.
This time Alvord tried to foul by hitting below the belt. Dick sidestepped and drove in a blow against Ben's left eye.
"My! That was a socker!" yelled some of the spectators.
"You're hitting too hard. It ain't fair," wailed Ben, backing off.
"If all you want is gymnastics you don't need me," mocked Dick. "Fight, if you're going to. If you're not, then get out of this."