oment he was facing his
adversary, clashed in at him, delivering so fierce a blow that Terry
nearly went down.

Then came and went blow after blow. There was a close, a fierce
struggle here and there, and both went down just as a pair of broad
shoulders were seen at the door beside those of Bolton, who was keeping
watch over the fight instead of the companion-ladder, and the broad
shoulders and the rugged countenance were those of the new boatswain.

"Arn't lost much time," he growled.

"No. Don't stop 'em," whispered Bolton. "Let them have it out."

"Oh, I arn't agoin' to stop 'em," growled back Barney. "He's got to be
a fighting man, so he'd better larn to fight."

"Can he fight?" whispered the middy.

"Seems like it, sir: that was right in the nose."

An excited murmur ran through the spectators, as after a sharp little
episode, during which Syd had been a good deal knocked about, Terry went
back against the bulkhead and stood with his hand to his face.

"Ready for the sponge and basin, Mike Terry?" squeaked Jenks; and there
was a laugh.

"I'll remember that, Baby," cried Terry, squaring up to his adversary
again with the full intention of putting an end to an encounter beneath
his dignity; and after a sharp struggle Syd's crown struck the bulkhead
loudly, and he went down sitting on a locker.

"That's done him," said Bolton, with a sigh, as if he were disappointed.

"Not it, my lad. Master Syd arn't got warm yet. Your chap's got his
work cut out to lick him."

"Then he can fight?" whispered Bolton, eagerly.

"Well, it arn't so much his fighting; it's a way he's got o' not being
able to leave off when he's wound up, and that tires 'em. Look at
that."

The fight had been renewed by Terry rushing forward to finish off his
antagonist, who had seemed to be a little confused by the last round.

But Sydney eluded him, and with a wonderful display of activity avoided
several awkward blows, and after wearying his enemy managed to deliver
one with all his might in unpleasant proximity to Terry's eyes.

The struggle went on with varying success, Syd on the whole naturally
getting far the worst of it; but Barney stood stolidly looking on, and
when Roylance felt his heart sink as he saw how badly his brave young
defender was being beaten, the boatswain said coolly to Bolton in reply
to a--

"Now then, what do you think of that?"

"Lot's o' stuff in him yet, young gen'leman. He's good for another
ho