Then, when Cap tried for another left to the jaw he either miscalculated, or North guarded quickly, for Cap’s fist came against his opponent’s forearm, and the next minute our hero went down under a well directed blow, that eventually closed his right eye. But he did not mind this, got up quickly and was at it again. Seeing his advantage in the next round North hammered away at Cap’s optic, thereby not only causing the Smith lad exquisite pain, but greatly hampering him in the fight, for his vision was reduced by half. “You’ve got him now!” exulted Mersfeld, when the round was over, and he was spraying his man with water from a ginger ale bottle. “Keep at him!” “Oh, he’s got lots of go yet,” declared North. “If I can close his other eye I’ll have him though.” “Then play for that.” North tried to, but he was so intent on this that he left his own chin unguarded. Cap did not care much about inflicting visible punishment on the bully, but he did want to end the fight, for which, truth to tell, he had no great hankering. Once more his reliable left went boring in, and North gently went over backwards, coming heavily down in the grass. He almost took the count, but the time keeper was merciful, and allowed him a few seconds. “He’s about all in,” whispered Bill to his brother, when after some feeble and cautious sparring the round was at an end. “Finish him up. I’m afraid McNibb or some of the profs. might come.” “So am I. Here goes for a knock-out.” Cap tried for it, but North was shifty. He was playing on the defensive now, for he found that Cap was more cautious and was guarding his damaged eye well. And North did not dare open his guard enough to come back strong. Therefore he clinched several times, hanging heavily on his opponent to tire him. Cap tried to avoid this, and there was considerable leg work which was hard on the breathing apparatus. He thought he saw one good chance, and sent in an upper cut, but it fell short, and he got a blow on the ear that made his head ring. Thereafter he was more cautious. “You must do him up soon,” implored Bill. “Can’t you take a chance?” “I’m afraid to, with my bad eye.” “That’s so. Well, use your own judgment.” But the next round was the last, and the end came most unexpectedly. North led with his right, intending to try once more his feinting, shifting tactics. But he made a miscalculation. Cap blocked with his left, and sending in a cross-counter with his right caught North on the side of the head. Down went the bully like a log, not badly hurt, but stunned enough to make him take the count. There was no chance to allow the fatal ten seconds to elapse, however, for, from the crowd that surrounded the two contestants came the cry: “Here comes Prexy!” “Skip! Here’s Dr. Burton!” “Come on, Cap! Get into your coat—never mind your shirt—out this way!” cried Bill, Pete and Whistle-Breeches in the same breath.