"He's jiu-jitsu! Look out!"
The full meaning of these words shot into Ned's brain.
He recollected now having heard some talk about Kennell's having served in the Far East on his first enlistment.
Doubtless it was there that he had learned the subtle, deadly Japanese tricks that he was now exercising on his inexperienced opponent.
Gladly would Ned have come to open boxing. In a ring, under proper rules, he was well convinced he could whip the burly Kennell; but under the conditions he now faced, he was by no means certain of his ultimate chance of victory.
And now Kennell, with his snakelike glide, closed in again, and Ned seized him without warning in a half-Nelson.
Back and back bent the bulky form of the bluejacket till it seemed that his vertebra must crack under the cruel pressure.
But to Ned's sickened amazement, the other wriggled from the hold as if he had been some reptile, and there was the work all to be done over again.
One fact, however, Ned noticed with satisfaction.
If he was becoming exhausted, Kennell was also tiring. His breath was coming sharply, with a hissing intake, like that of a laboring pump.