"Sh!" replied Frederick. "He hasn't been told it's a boxing contest. He thinks it's a clog-dancing competition and is giving the points for footwork."
Unfortunately the M.C. did not hear. He was speaking himself.
"The next bout should conclude our programme," he said, "but I am asked to announce that Private Henson challenges Private Fry to box six two-minute rounds, backing himself for five francs against a small article of no intrinsic value."
Enthusiastic applause greeted the announcement. A disturbance in the rear of the hut indicated that Elfred was heading for cover.
"'E 's twice my size," he wailed as strong hands hauled him back.
"The challenger admits that he holds a slight advantage in weight," continued the M.C., "but considers that is counterbalanced by his advanced years."
"This is your fiendish work," hissed Percival to Frederick.
"Not a bit of it, old sportsman," replied Frederick cheerfully. "The patent rights are held by 'Enery. I merely mentioned to him that Elfred possessed a desirable bath-plug that it might be useful to acquire."
Percival left his seat to confer with the shrinking Elfred.
"'E can 'ave the old bath-plug an' welcome, Sir, as far as I'm concerned," said the latter.