"Step aside nothing," said Frank, struggling, in Jack's grasp. "I never saw a Frenchman yet I couldn't lick." "Well," said Jack calmly, "this is one you won't lick. I'm going to do it myself. It's my fight, anyway in vain did Frank struggle. He was like a child in his friend's strong hands." The big Frenchman thrust his face forward again. "So you are going to interfere, are you?" he said. "Yes," said Jack pleasantly, "and you'll wish I hadn't." "Then take that," cried the Frenchman, and struck out suddenly. Jack leaped back quickly, but he was not swift enough to entirely avoid the blow. A tiny stream of blood trickled from his nose. Without a word he calmly drew a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away the red drops. Then he stepped forward and spoke to all. "Now," he said quietly, "this chap is going to pay for that. Are you gentlemen here? Will you see that this is conducted in a proper manner, or is it to be a rough-and-tumble?" One of the French middies stepped forward suddenly. He offered Jack his hand. "I'll see that it is conducted ship-shape," he said. "You impress me as a brave man, and I'll see that you get fair play." "Thanks," said Jack laconically, accepting his hand. "I might as well tell you, however," continued the Frenchman, "that you are up against more than your match. This man is one of the heavyweight aspirants for the championship of the French navy, and has several scalps to his credit." "I guess he hasn't bumped up against an Englishman," was Jack's reply. "What's it to be?" asked the Frenchman. "Anything suits me," said Jack. "To a finish," grumbled Jack's antagonist. Quickly a square was marked off, and, enjoining the spectators to silence, the young Frenchman who appeared more friendly than the rest as self-appointed referee called time. Jack and his opponent squared off. CHAPTER XVI JACK MAKES A NAME FOR HIMSELF Frank, who had never seen Jack exhibit his prowess in the fistic art, and who was rather a skillful boxer himself, though by no means a heavyweight, muttered to himself: "Why didn't I insist on taking him on myself? Jack is due for a good lacing. He's strong enough, but he hasn't the science, I'm afraid." He stood nervously in his friend's corner. The Frenchman opened the fight with a rush, and his friends uttered subdued cheers and encouragement as he dashed at Jack. In size, it appeared that the two were about evenly matched, although the Frenchman was a shade taller than his opponent. That his comrades believed him a master of the fistic art was evinced by their cries: "Finish him up quickly." "Let him stay a couple of rounds." "No; one round's enough." The Frenchman rushed, evidently having decided to finish the fight as quickly as possible. His expression showed that he had no doubt of his ability to polish off the Englishman and of his superiority as a boxer.