"Go in! Go in!" cried Teddy Barton.

Montgomery sprang wildly forward, and the next instant was lying half
senseless, with his neck nearly broken, in the middle of the ring.

The whole round had been a long conspiracy to tempt him within reach of
one of those terrible right-hand upper-cuts for which the Master was
famous. For this the listless, weary bearing, for this the cramp in the
thigh. When Montgomery had sprung in so hotly he had exposed himself to
such a blow as neither flesh nor blood could stand. Whizzing up from
below with a rigid arm, which put the Master's eleven stone into its
force, it struck him under the jaw; he whirled half round, and fell a
helpless and half-paralysed mass. A vague groan and murmur,
inarticulate, too excited for words, rose from the great audience.
With open mouths and staring eyes they gazed at the twitching and
quivering figure.

"Stand back! Stand right back!" shrieked the referee, for the Master
was standing over his man ready to give him the _coup-de-grace_ as he
rose.

"Stand back, Craggs, this instant!" Stapleton repeated.

The Master sank his hands sulkily and walked backwards to the rope with
his ferocious eyes fixed upon his fallen antagonist. The timekeeper
called the seconds. If ten of them passed before Montgomery rose to his
feet, the fight was ended. Ted Barton wrung his hands and danced about
in an agony in his corner.

As if in a dream--a terrible nightmare--the student could hear the voice
of the timekeeper--three--four--five--he got up on his hand--six--
seven--he was on his knee, sick, swimming, faint, but resolute to rise.
Eight--he was up, and the Master was on him like a tiger, lashing
savagely at him with both hands. Folk held their breath as they watched
those terrible blows, and anticipated the pitiful end--so much more
pitiful where a game but helpless man refuses to accept defeat.

Strangely automatic is the human brain. Without volition, without
effort, there shot into the memory of this bewildered, staggering,
half-stupefied man the one thing which could have saved him--that blind
eye of which the Master's son had spoken. It was the same as the other
to look at, but Montgomery remembered that he had said that it was the
left. He reeled to the left side, half felled by a drive which lit upon
his shoulder. The Master pivoted round upon his leg and was at him in
an instant.

"Yark him, lad! Yark him!" screamed the woman.

"Hold your t