“Well, I suppose we don’t need to, in that case,” replied Bert. “I’m glad you feel so sure about it, though. Do you feel in good shape?”
“Never better in my life,” replied Drake, with a tremendous yawn. “I’m just debating in my mind whether to kill this audacious seaman or just put him on the sick list for a week or two.”
“Gee, you just about hate yourself, don’t you Drake?” asked Bert, and they all laughed.
“Just the same you want to be watching all the time,” said Bert, “the way this fellow is used to wrestling, everything goes, and you want to look out for fouls. That’s the thing that’s worrying me.”
“Never fear,” replied Drake, “I used to take lessons from a man who knew the game backward, fair tricks and foul. He taught me a lot while I was with him, and I guess I’ll know what to expect. And fore-warned is fore-armed, you know.”
“Well, that was all I was afraid of,” said Bert. “I haven’t a doubt in the world that you are more than a match for him when it comes to straight wrestling. I’m not so awfully flabby myself, but I know you always manage to put me down.”
“Oh, that’s just because it’s out of your line,” replied Drake, “mere brute strength doesn’t count so very much in wrestling. It’s like boxing, or baseball, or anything else; it’s head work that is the deciding factor.”
“All right, old sock, get to it then,” said Bert, “don’t be afraid to eat plenty of beef steak for supper to-night. That’s the stuff will pull you through.”
“Right you are!” returned Drake. “I’ll be all right, all-right. There’ll be nothing to it, take it from me.”
“Well, that’s what we like to hear,” said Bert, reassured as he and Dick strolled away. They could talk of little else the rest of the afternoon, and became more and more excited as the appointed time drew near. At supper their usual appetites were not in evidence, and for the first time since they left port they failed to give the excellent meal the attention it deserved.