nts fights. The truth is that the scrap
committee is a court of honor, formed for adjusting nice
questions, and for preventing unfair fighting.

Cadet Butler was summoned before the scrap committee, and
stated his case. The decision of the scrap committee was that a
fight would have to take place, but that Mr. Holmes was privileged
to request the scrap committee to name a yearling who was
Holmes's own size and weight, this substitute to fight in Mr.
Butler's place at once.

Cadet Corporal Atwater thereupon promptly called at Greg's tent,
and stated the decision to the three tentmates.

"Mr. Prescott will answer for me, sir," Greg replied respectfully.

"Sir," Dick answered, "we appreciate the decision of the scrap
committee. We recognize that we are being used with the utmost
fairness, and that all Mr. Holmes's rights are being safeguarded in
the most honorable manner. Yet, sir, this fight has a peculiar
basis. More so than with most fights, I believe, sir, this is a purely
personal one. Mr. Holmes, therefore, is prepared, sir, to give
personal satisfaction. While the odds are very distinctly against
him, he wishes to show that he can take his trouncing like a cadet
and a gentleman. So, sir, with renewed assurances of our thanks
and appreciation, Mr. Holmes is ready to meet Mr. Butler at
daylight."

"That is well spoken, sir," replied Mr. Atwater. "I appreciate the
grit of Mr. Holmes's decision."

The president of the yearling class went back to acquaint Mr.
Butler with the outcome.

Until close of taps Greg practiced various blows, feints and dodges
in foot work.

"You can't win, Greg," advised Anstey. "Of course that's out of the
question. But, before you have to lose the count you want to make
sure of giving Mr. Butler enough facial decorations to keep him
satisfied for some time to come."

At taps the three tentmates lay down on their mattresses, Dick with
an alarm clock close to his hand.

Cadets Prescott and Anstey were soon sound asleep. Greg,
however, lay awake for a long time, thinking--thinking.

"If I had some of Dick's lightning speed, and his capacity for
sailing in like a cyclonic fury," thought Greg. "Whew, but I wish I
had always given more attention to boxing than I have done.
I will after this."

Finally, Greg dozed off. The next he knew was when a brief,
metallic "br-r-r-r?" sounded in the tent. In another instant Dick had
the clock and was smothering the noise. Greg Holmes leaped up