The fight was so fast and furious that it kept every spectator on edge. Once or twice the circle was forced to fall back swiftly to get away from the struggling lads. Several times Dick’s antagonist sought without success to close with him, but seemed at last to accomplish his object. “Down with him!” hissed Fraser. But it was not Dick who went down. He managed to twist his opponent over his hip and throw him heavily. Immediately he rose to his feet and waited for the other to get up. “Why didn’t you soak him when you had him?” asked Brad. “I can’t hit a chap when he is down,” declared Dick. “Give him the same chance at you and see what he will do!” “That makes no difference to me.” The fallen boy rose slowly, but was at Dick in a twinkling as soon as he reached his feet. Apparently he sought to take Merriwell by surprise, rushing unexpectedly and savagely. However, he was the one surprised, for Merriwell’s hard fist struck him a blow that stopped him in his tracks. His hands fell for a moment, and Buckhart palpitated: “Now! now—put him out!” Dick might have struck the final blow, but for some reason he held his hand, giving the other time to recover. After that, Merriwell’s enemy was wary and cautious for several seconds. Dick followed him up and pressed the fight, but was given no good opening for a telling blow. “Waugh!” growled the Texan. “I certain don’t understand this yere pard of mine any. Here that galoot soaks him on the head and knocks him silly, but he continues to let him have more than an even show in this go.” “Dick always fuf-fuf-fuf-fights fair,” said Jolliby. Merriwell’s foe seemed to recover rapidly, for soon he was once more meeting Dick halfway, and the fight seemed fiercer than ever. This kind of battle could not last long, for some time one or both of the boys were bound to weaken. Plainly, it was a struggle in which staying power must tell. In the end Dick’s splendid condition and fine training told. His foe was breathing heavily, although persisting in the same fierce style of fighting. Several times Dick tried to end the encounter with a telling blow, but the skill of the other chap enabled him to avoid this until his wind began to fail. Finally Merriwell forced his enemy to retreat and kept close after him. “It’s all over!” half laughed Buckhart, as Dick struck Arlington repeatedly. “There he goes!” Even as the words were spoken, Dick landed a sledge-hammer blow on the jaw of his antagonist, and Arlington went down like a log. “I knew it!” declared the Texan. The fallen chap did not stir. “Give me a match,” cried Dick. “Quick—give me a match!” Some one thrust a match into his fingers, and he struck it, protecting the blaze with his hands and throwing the light full on the face of the chap who lay prone on the ground. “Look!” he cried. “Here’s the Chester Arlington I’ve been fighting!”