Soon the summons came that took the combatants back to the imaginary
ring. Again they went at it, both sides cautious, for Ripley
was puzzled and a bit afraid. He had not expected this little
freshman to last for a second round. Before the second call of
"time" came Ripley had managed to land two stinging ones on Dick's
left cheek, but the freshman did not go down, nor even wilt under
this treatment. He was proving the fact that he could "take punishment."
Yet Dick did not land anything that hurt his opponent.

"You didn't half try this time," whispered Ben, as he attended
his man in the "corner" under the tree.

"Come on, mucker!" yelled Ripley, derisively, when the two were
summoned for the third round.

"Speak for yourself, fellow," Dick answered, coolly.

"I'm a gentleman, and a gentleman's son," proclaimed Fred, haughtily.
"You're a mucker, and the son of a mucker!"

"Time!"

Dick could stand an ordinary insult with a fair amount of good
nature, when he despised the source of the insult. But now there
was a quiet flash in his eyes that Badger was glad to see.

Ripley started in to rush things. In quick succession he delivered
half a dozen stout blows. Only one of then landed, and that glancingly.
Ripley was puzzled, but he had no time to guess. For Dick was
not exactly rushing, now. He was merely fighting in close, remembering