One night a boxing programme had been staged for Frank's regiment and a series of interesting bouts was looked for.
"Are you going on to-night, Frank?" asked Bart.
"Yes," Frank replied. "And I feel in dandy shape. I never felt more full of pep than I do just now."
"Who's McGrath going to put against you?" asked Tom.
"I'm slated to meet Thompson, of company F," replied Frank.
"And he's a crackajack, too," put in Billy. "He cleaned up the champs of all the other companies when the old Thirty-seventh was down on the Mexican border. You've got your work cut out for you, Frank."
And Billy's prediction was verified, for on that night Frank found that Thompson was an opponent to be reckoned with. It was a slashing, four-round bout with the scales hanging even most of the time, but in the closing round Frank had a shade the better of it and was announced the victor.
Amid tumultuous handclapping of company B, whose champion he was, Frank waved his hand smilingly and was about to go off the platform when Corporal Wilson, who was acting as master of ceremonies, stopped him with a gesture.
"Pretty well winded, Sheldon?" he asked.
"Not a bit," laughed Frank. "I'm as fresh as a daisy. Like John Paul Jones, I've just begun to fight."