Farley was ready, now, and coming forward with a second on either side of him.
"Step in Dave old fellow." directed Dan.
Dave came forward to where Midshipman Tyson awaited them.
"Gentlemen," announced the referee, "this is to be a fight to the finish, bare hands. As time is short you are urged to mix it up briskly to a conclusion. The usual ring rules will guide the officials of this meeting. Hand-shaking will dispensed with.
Are you ready?"
"Ready!" hissed Farley venomously.
"Ready," nodded Dave coolly.
"Time!"
With a yell Farley leaped in. He didn"t want it to last more than one round, if it could be helped.
The fury of his a.s.sault drove the lighter Darrin back. Farley followed up with more sledge-hammers. He was certainly a dangerous man, with a hurricane style. He was fast and heavy, calculated to bear down a lighter opponent.
Before that a.s.sortment of blows Dave Darrin was forced to resort to footwork.
"Stand up and fight!" jeered Farley harshly as he wheeled and wheeled, still throwing out his hammer blows. "Don"t play sneak on the field!"
Dave didn"t even flush. Trained with d.i.c.k Prescott at Gridley High School, Darrin was too old a hand to be taunted into indiscretion.
In spite of his footwork, however, Farley succeeded in landing upon him twice, though neither blow did much damage.
Then a third blow landed, against the side of Darrin"s head, that jarred him. It was all he could do to stand off Farley until he recovered his wits enough to dodge once more.
Yet, all the while, Darrin was watching his chance.
CHAPTER VIII
THE MAN WHO WON
"This isn"t a sprint!" yelled Farley, in high disgust. "Come back here!" Dave did come back.
Wheeling suddenly, he struck his right arm up under Farley"s now loose guard.
In the same fraction of a second Dave let fly with his left.
Smack!
It wasn"t such a very hard blow--but it landed on the tip of Farley"s nose.
With a yell of rage Farley made a dive at his lighter opponent.
"_Time!_"
In his rage Farley tried to strike after that call, but Dave bounded to one side.
Then, turning his back, Darrin walked away to where Dan and Midshipman Rollins awaited him.
"Be careful, Mister Farley," warned Second Cla.s.s Man Tyson, striding over to him. "You struck out after the call of time. Had the blow landed I would have been compelled under the rules to award Darrin the fight on a foul."
"First blood for our side!" cheered Dan, as he sprang at Dave with a towel.
In a few moments the young man had been well rubbed down, and now Dan and Rollins, on opposite sides, were kneading his muscles.
From over in Farley"s corner came a growl:
"I came here to fight, not to go in for track work. That fellow can"t fight."
"Queer!" remarked Dan cheerfully. "We hold all the honors so far."
Quickly enough the call of time came.
Farley, the flow of blood from his nose stanched, came back as full of steam as before.
Dave"s footwork was as nimble as ever. Speed and skill in dodging were features of Darrin"s fighting style.
Yet Farley caught him, with a blow on the chest that sent him to his knees.
Like a flash, however, Darrin was upon his feet, and Farley lunged at him swiftly and heavily.
In the very act of reaching his feet, however, Dave Darrin leaped lightly to the left.
With an exclamation of disgust Farley turned and swung again.
But Dave dropped down, then shot up under his opponent"s guard once more.
_Biff!_
This time an exclamation of real pain came from Farley, for the blow had landed solidly on his left eye, just about closing it.
A second time Darrin might have landed, but he was taking no chances under a steam-roller like Farley.
As Dave danced away, however, followed up by his opponent, bellowing from the sudden jolt his eye had received, he saw that Farley was fighting almost blindly.
Dan Dalzell now jumped in as close as he had any right to be.
He wanted to see what would happen next.
Nor was he kept long guessing, for Dave had slipped around on the blind side of his opponent.
"Confound you! Can"t you stand up and fight square?" demanded Farley harshly.