Young Dodge landed some distance from the bank. There was a loud splash and a yell from the vanquished one, then a gurgling noise as Bert's mouth went under water. He disappeared under the black surface of the lake. Dick waited calmly, ready to go to Dodge's assistance if needed. Bert, however, rose quickly, the water not much above his knees. "You loafer!" hissed Dodge, dashing the water from his face. "Haven't you had enough?" asked Prescott mildly. "Didn't the water cool you off?" Dodge didn't reply, but he walked a few steps away before attempting to step on dry land, thus avoiding his late opponent. "That little business is all over," declared Tom Reade coolly. "Bend down by the water, Dick, and I'll wash your nose with my handkerchief. Greg, bring one of the lanterns here." "Now, I guess it's time for our practice, Bayliss," Dave announced, stepping over to Bert's companion. "I've got to look after Dodge," mumbled Bayliss. "No, you don't!" Dave warned him. "After the kind of language you have used to me you can't slip out of trouble quite so easily as all that. Get ready." "Quit---can't you?" protested Bayliss. "No; not unless you'll admit that you lied when you applied disagreeable names to me," said Dave Darrin firmly. "Bayliss, are you ready to admit that you are a liar?" "You bet I'm not!" cried the other hoarsely. "Then back up your words! Ready! Here's something coming!" That "something" arrived. Bayliss fairly gasped as Darrin started in on him. But Dave drew back, holding up his fists. "You didn't get started fairly, Bayliss," Darry declared. "I want you to have as fair a show as possible. Draw in a deep breath. Fill your lungs with air. Plant your feet firmly. Put up your hands." Patiently Darry waited for perhaps three quarters of a minute. "Now!" he said at last. Then the fight went on, but it was one sided. Had Bayliss done himself justice, it might have resulted in a draw, at least, for Bayliss was strong and quick. But he lacked courage. Presently Bayliss, considerably battered, though not as severely punished as Dodge had been, went down to his knees, nor would he rise. "Going to get up and go on?" demanded Darry, pausing before him. "Or do you quit?" Bayliss, breathing hard, did not answer. "What you need here," declared the farmer, stepping forward and puffing slowly at his pipe, "is a referee. I'll take the job. Bayliss, if you believe that you can do anything more, then the place for you is on your feet. I'll give you until I count five." Deliberately the farmer counted, but Bayliss remained on his knees. "Bayliss loses," announced the farmer. "Not that I believe he ever had much in the fighting line to lose, but he loses." "I'll wait five minutes for him," offered Darry. "By that time he'll be in shape to go on again."