Twice, however, he managed to land body blows. He was trying to drive in
a third when Pennington blocked, following this with a left-arm jab on
Darrin's left jaw that sent the lighter man to the floor.

Instantly Dawley began to count off the seconds.

"--seven, eight, nine, te----"

Dave was up on his feet. Pen tried to make a quick rush, but Darrin
dodged cleverly, them wheeled and faced his opponent as the latter
wheeled about.

After that there was less footwork. Both men stood up to it, as keenly
alert as they could be, each trying to drive home heavy blows. While
they were still at it the call of time sounded.

"Don't let him put it over you, David, little giant!" warned Dan, as the
latter and Farley vigorously massaged Darrin's muscles. "He all but had
you, and there isn't any need of making Pen a present of the meeting."

"I tried to get him," muttered Dave in an undertone, "and I shall go on
trying to the last. But Pennington is pretty nearly superior to anyone
in my class."

"Just waltz in and show him," whispered Dalzell, as the call sounded.

Pennington entered the sixth round with more confidence. He began, at
the outset, to drive in heavy blows, nor did Dave do much dodging.