by these shouts and thinking the game in his own
hands, blowing himself in his exertions to get close quarters again,
while Tom is keeping away with perfect ease.

They quarter[33] over the ground again and again, Tom always on the
defensive.

[33] #Quarter#: to move about.

The Slogger pulls up at last for a moment, fairly blown.[34]

[34] #Blown#: out of breath.

"Now, then, Tom," sings out East, dancing with delight. Tom goes in
in a twinkling, and hits two heavy body-blows, and gets away again
before the Slogger can catch his wind; which when he does he rushes
with blind fury at Tom, and being skilfully parried and avoided,
overreaches himself and falls on his face, amidst terrific cheers from
the School-house boys.

"Double your two to one?" says Groove to Rattle, note-book in hand.

"Stop a bit," says that hero, looking uncomfortably at Williams, who
is puffing away on his second's knee, winded[35] enough, but little
the worse in any other way.

[35] #Winded#: out of breath.

STEADY ALL.

After another round the Slogger too seems to see that he can't go in
and win right off, and has met his match or thereabouts. So he too
begins to use his head,[36] and tries to make Tom lose his patience,
and come in before his time. And so the fight sways on, now one, and
now the other getting a trifling pull.[37]

[36] #Use his head#: be more careful.

[37] #Pull#: advantage.

Tom's face begins to look very one-sided,--there are little queer
bumps on his forehead, and his mouth is bleeding; but East keeps the
wet sponge going so scientifically that he comes up looking as fresh
and bright as ever. Williams is only slightly marked in the face, but
by the nervous movement of his elbows you can see that Tom's
body-blows are telling. In fact, half the vice of the Slogger's
hitting is neutralized, for he daren't lunge out freely for fear of
exposing his sides. It is too interesting by this time for much
shouting, and the whole ring is very quiet.

"All right, Tommy," whispers East; "hold on's the horse that's to win.
We've got the last. Keep your head,[38] old boy."

[38] #Keep your head#: keep cool.

But where is Arthur all this time? Words cannot paint the poor little
fellow's distress. He couldn't muster courage to come up to the ring,
but wandered up and down from the great fives' court to the corner of
the chapel rails--now trying to make up his mind to throw himself
between them,