The boy’s head was suddenly jolted backwards. Dan seemed to have heard his neck crack. He wondered if it were broken. Kester had gotten through his guard, but the blow had landed on Davis’s forehead. The boy sprang back, now, stepping about more quickly and skillfully, though his head swam dizzily. Bill made a rush at him. Escape seemed hopeless, for Dan was standing back against the ropes. Dan suddenly ducked, however, under a powerful right-arm swing, and danced to the center of the ring, at which the crowd yelled and shouted their appreciation. “That’s the way to do it. Now hand him one!” “Time!” called the referee. The round was ended. The men retired to their corners, where they were fanned and their faces bathed by their seconds. “Do something this time,” begged Sam. “You are not half boxing. What is the matter with you to-night?” “I don’t know. I guess I needed that punch. It made my head swim, but it woke me up. I’ll do better this time.” “Give him a punch in the plexus, Bill,” advised one of the latter’s seconds. “He doesn’t guard himself there at all.” “Never mind. I’ve got the fellow’s measure,” answered the bully. “It will all be finished up and done to a turn before we end the second round.” “Time!” summoned the referee. Kester sprang into the ring full of confidence, but Dan, to the surprise of everyone, sat calmly in his chair. Kester hesitated, a triumphant gleam appearing in his eyes. Suddenly he made a rush at his opponent’s corner, and all at once the Battleship Boy leaped to his feet. His right fist shot out and then his left. Both blows landed squarely on his adversary’s sore nose, bringing two plainly audible grunts from the big man. Kester threw one hand to his nose. As he did so, Dan planted a swift, powerful blow, this time in his adversary’s stomach. The force of it sent Bill staggering half way across the ring. The spectators fairly yelled themselves hoarse. “You’re all right, Dynamite! You’ll be a champion some day, when you wake up.” But Bill was boxing again. The blows on his nose had enraged him beyond endurance. With a yell of rage, he charged his slender opponent, leading out his right for the lad’s face. The latter blocked the blow, side-stepping out of harm’s way, where he stood awaiting the other man’s further efforts. “Why don’t you follow him up?” shouted Sam, who, by this time, was wildly excited. His face was flushed, and his eyes were sparkling with joy over his companion’s good showing in this round. Dan made no effort to follow Kester up. The lad had his own ideas, and now he appeared to be fully aware of what he was doing and what he hoped to do. Kester came back, sparring cautiously. He landed two light blows on the boy’s shoulder, which Dan returned with right and left over the heart. He seemed purposely not to have put much force into the blows. He felt that he had inflicted enough injury on his antagonist, and hoped he should have to do so no more.