Though Dick's chums followed the fighters, at a generous distance, they would have noticed, had they been less intent on the work of the combatants, that Bayliss kept well on the outskirts of the crowd. Bayliss didn't want to attract any dangerous notice to himself, nor was he at all sure that the farmer would interfere to see fair play for Dodge's side. In this, however, he really wronged the farmer. In giving ground Prescott stepped backward, his feet becoming entangled with a vine running along the ground. Down went Dick, just in time to save himself from a savage blow in the face. "Stand up to the fight, like a man!" roared Dodge, for he felt that he was winning. Dick drew himself to his knees. Ere he could gain his feet Bert landed a smashing blow on his left cheek. Down went Dick again. "Stop that sort of thing, Dodge!" flared Dave Darrin. "Either man who goes down must have safety until he's on his feet again." "Shut up!" flared Bert, but this time he waited, afraid to try to hit his opponent until Dick was on his feet. "Can't Dodge run his own fight, hang you?" Bayliss demanded. This was the first word he had had the courage to utter. Quick as a flash Dave wheeled, running toward Dodge's companion. "This isn't wholly Dodge's fight, Bayliss," Darry cried, his anger at a white heat. "Prescott has some rights in the game, and you know it, too." "You're too fresh!" snapped Bayliss. "You're no good, Bayliss," Darry remarked contemptuously. "You're a sneak and a liar, and so-----" "And so I shall claim some of your time just as soon as Dick and Dodge have finished," retorted Darry coldly. "Don't forget that, Bayliss, and don't show yourself up by trying to run away." With that Darrin stalked back to watch the finish of the present affair. Dick, on his feet again, renewed the battle in earnest. He found Dodge a really worthy opponent. Both boys soon had bruised faces to show. Smash! That blow, delivered by Bert, almost ended the fight. Dick staggered backward, the blood beginning to flow from his nose. Dodge followed it up, driving in another hard blow. The pain stung Dick, not to madness, but into a more resolute defense, with more of offense in it. Then Dick so manoeuvred that he had Dodge between himself and the shore of the lake. This advantage gave young Prescott slightly higher ground on the gentle slope toward the lake. Bert tried to manoeuvre for a more level footing, but Prescott drove him slowly backward. Suddenly one of Dick's blows landed, with staggering force, on the tip of Dodge's chin. Bert went to earth, rolling over as he struck, and lying face downward. He was not knocked out, but he had had enough. For a moment or two Dick glanced down at his adversary in cold contempt. Then suddenly, without a word, he bent over, seizing Dodge by the shirt collar and belt, and threw him sprawling out into the lake.