He began to make savage, bull-like rushes; his thick arms thrashed like flails. Laughter came from the watch below as he failed again and yet again. Ethan had expected much more from his huge opponent; a growing contempt took possession of him; he began to step in and out with little or no caution; his second called to him frantically to be careful, but he paid no heed. A gleam of cunning shot through the brain of the panting giant; he drew in his breath in gasps; his movements were labored; his knees seemed to quiver beneath him. “Finish him,” came the cry from the sailors, delighting in the bully’s defeat. Longsword shouted his warnings madly, but Ethan was after his foe like a flash, and driving in short, jarring blows with all the power of his athletic young body. Suddenly Blake’s burly form stiffened and lurched forward; his great arms whirled, and one brawny fist landed with terrific force upon Ethan’s body. It was his first blow of the battle. Ethan went white and swayed weakly, his hands groping blindly. With a savage grin Blake dashed at him. “Down,” yelled Longsword desperately. The reeling brain of the sorely hurt boy just managed to grasp the meaning of this advice, and he sank to his knees just in time to escape the shattering blow that passed above his head. “Stand off,” snarled the Irish dragoon as he worked like mad over his pupil. He turned his face to glare over his shoulder at Blake, and the great scar across it seemed to burn like fire. A friendly hand dashed cold water over Ethan’s bare back; the shock cleared the lad’s head, and clinging to Longsword he regained his feet, his breath wheezing in his throat, his chest laboring in great spasmodic sobs. At this point the ring at the side nearest the forecastle hatch opened and Captain Paul Jones appeared; behind him showed the face of Lieutenant Simpson, wrinkled with malicious satisfaction. The commander half raised his hand for a gesture that would have stopped the combat; but he paused, hesitated; then he caught the appeal in Ethan’s wide open eyes. He nodded quickly. The crowd drew a breath of relief. The fight was to go on. Longsword sluiced more water over his charge, taking care to stand between him and his opponent, so as to give him the benefit of every second’s delay. “Stand out of the way,” raved Blake. “Play fair, there!” “Fair play,” came from all hands. They almost to a man desired to see Blake defeated; but it must be done fairly. Ethan shoved Shamus aside and faced his foe once more, pale and perceptibly weak.