anyone in my class!" sneered
Bert. Indeed, young Dodge's address to his task opened up
particularly well. Dodge was rather heavy for his years, and he had
been doing some good training work through the spring and early
summer.

Dick, who was lighter and not noticeably quicker, confined himself,
at the outset, to his old tactics of allowing his opponent to
tire himself.

Bert, however, was soon quick to discover this. He moderated
the savagery of his own attack somewhat, sparring cleverly for
a chance to feint and then land a face blow.

Dick gave ground readily when it served his purpose, though he
did not run.

"Keep back, fellows!" called Tom Reade. "Don't get near enough
to interfere with either man."

"Don't interfere with either the man or the thing, you mean,"
interposed Danny Grin.

"Shut up, Dalzell!" ordered Reade with generous roughness. "Remember
that you're not fighting Dodge, and that it's unfair to say anything
to anger him. Be fair!"

Though Dick's chums followed the fighters, at a generous distance,
they would have noticed, had they been less intent on the work
of the combatants, that Bayliss kept well on the outskirts of
the crowd. Bayliss didn't want to attract any dangerous notice
to himself, nor was he at all sure that the farmer would interfere
to see fair play for Dodge's side. In this, however, he really
wronged the farmer.

In giving ground Prescott stepped backward, his feet becoming
entangled with a vine running along the ground.

Down went Dick, just in time to save himself from a savage blow
in the face.

"Stand up to the fight, like a man!" roared Dodge, for he felt
that he was winning.

Dick drew himself to his knees. Ere he could gain his feet Bert
landed a smashing blow on his left cheek. Down went Dick again.

"Stop that sort of thing, Dodge!" flared Dave Darrin. "Either
man who goes down must have safety until he's on his feet again."

"Shut up!" flared Bert, but this time he waited, afraid to try
to hit his opponent until Dick was on his feet.

"Can't Dodge run his own fight, hang you?" Bayliss demanded.
This was the first word he had had the courage to utter.

Quick as a flash Dave wheeled, running toward Dodge's companion.

"This isn't wholly Dodge's fight, Bayliss," Darry cried, his anger
at a white heat. "Prescott has some rights in the game, and you
know it, too."

"You're too fresh!" snapped Bayliss.

"You're no good, Bayliss," Darry remarke