anything else, Dick Prescott
dropped his left against the yearling's jawbone.

There was a crash as the dazed man went to the floor.

Instantly Mr. Jennison's voice rose, counting:

"One, two, three, four--"

"Take the full count, Spurdy," advised Kramer, bending forward
over his principal.

"--eight, nine, ten!" gasped out the timekeeper.

Mr. Spurlock had shown no sign of rising. In fact, he was still
unconscious.

"I award the fight to Mr. Prescott," called the cool, exact tones of
Mr. Edward.

Greg could have let out a whoop and danced a war-dance, but in
the presence of upper class men this plebe had to restrain himself.
Anstey's eyes flashed, but otherwise the Virginian bore himself
modestly.

"Carry Mr. Spurlock down to the door. Then summon
stretcher-bearers from the hospital," directed Mr. Edwards.

It was Yearling Devine who sprang to obey this direction.

Now Dick spoke, ever so quietly.

"Mr. Kramer, I understood that you did me the honor to call me
out."

"Eh?" muttered that other yearling. "Oh, yes; so I did. Whenever
you're ready, mister!"

"If Mr. Edwards and Mr. Jennison are willing," returned the plebe
coolly, "I'm ready as soon as Mr. Spurlock has been carried away."

"Oho, mister! B.j. to the end, are you?"

"No, sir; only anxious to atone for my b.j.-ety," replied Cadet
Prescott, with a little flash of his eyes.

Anstey had gone below with Devine, to render any help that could
be given.

"This is rather unusual, mister," suggested Mr. Edwards, glancing
at his watch. "However, if you really feel fit, and if it suits Mr.
Kramer--"

"Oh, anything will suit me," returned the yearling. Truth to tell,
Kramer wasn't by any means sure that he could whip this crafty
plebe. But the issue had been thrown fairly in his teeth. Moreover,
the honor of the yearling class was now at stake, and Kramer
wasn't the man to go back on his class.

"Listen, gentlemen," broke in Mr. Edwards. "This affair started a
little ahead of the time set. It is now nine-fifteen. In ten minutes or
less, we can have Mr. Spurlock on his way to cadet hospital.
Then, if you two mix it up spicily, we can have the affair over by
nine-forty. In any case I shall have to call the fight by that time,
and decide it a draw, if necessary. What say you?"

"Quite satisfactory, sir," nodded Kramer.

"Satisfactory, sir," added Prescott, waiting, as a plebe should, until
the yearling had spoken.

Devine was back almost a