ipmen were attired for their "affair." Between
them the different members of the party had smuggled ashore shoes, old
trousers and belts for the fighters.

It being a class affair, Remington, of the third class, had come along
as referee, while Dawley; was to be the time-keeper.

"If the principals are ready, let them step forward," ordered Midshipman
Remington, going to the middle of the floor. "Now, I understand that
this is to be a finish fight; rounds, two minutes; rests, two minutes. I
also understand that the principals do not care to shake hands before
the call to mix up."

Darrin and Pennington nodded their assent.

"Take your places, gentlemen," ordered the referee quickly. "Are you
ready, gentlemen?"

"Yes," came from both principals.

"Time!"

Both men had their guards up. As the word left the referee's lips each
tried two or three passes which the other blocked. Midshipman Pennington
was trying to take his opponent's "measure."

Then Dave ducked, darted, dodged and wheeled about. Pennington had to
follow him, and it made the latter angry.

"Stand up and fight, can't you," hissed Pen.

"Silence during the rounds, Mr. Pennington," admonished the referee
quietly. "Let the officials do all the talking that may be necessary."

Dave, as he dodged again, and came up unscathed, grinned broadly over
this rebuke. That grin made Pen angrier than anything else could have
done.

"I'll wipe that grin off his face!" muttered Pennington angrily.

And this very thing Pennington tried hard to do. He was quick on his own
feet, and for a few seconds he followed the dodging Darrin about,
raining in blows that required all of Dave's adroitness to escape.

Dave's very success, however, made his opponent all the angrier. From
annoyance, followed by excessive irritation, Pennington went into almost
blind rage--and the man who does that, anywhere in life, must always pay
for it.

Suddenly Dave swung his right in on the point of Pen's chin with a force
that jolted the larger midshipman. As part of the same movement,
Darrin's left crashed against Pennington's nose.

Then, out of chivalry, Dave dropped back, to give Pen a few moments, in
case he needed them, to get his wits back.

"Time!" roared Dawley, and Pennington's seconds pounced upon him and
bore him away to his corner.

"Now I know how that fellow Darrin wins his fights," growled Pennington
in an undertone. "He keeps on running away until he has the other