"But the fellow is too big and powerful for me.

He simply pounds me down when I go for him." "Work for more strategy," whispered Page, as he held a sponge to Dave's battered nose, while Farley rubbed the muscles of his right arm.
"I haven't given up the fight," muttered Dave, "But, of course, I've known from the start that Treadwell is a pretty big fighter for one of my weight." "Oh, you'll get him yet," spoke Page confidently.
The fighters were being called for the second round.
In this Dave received considerable punishment, though he landed three or four times on Treadwell's body.
Then twice in succession the champion of the third class was knocked down.
Neither, however, was a knockout blow.
Dave took plenty of time, within his rights, about leaping to his feet, and in each instance got away from Treadwell's leaping assault.
Just after the second knock-down, time was called for the end of the round.
"You'll get him yet, Darry," was Page's prediction, but he did not speak as hopefully as before.
Farley, too, was full of loyalty for his friend and fellow-classman, but he did not allow this to blind his judgment.

Farley's opinion was that Dave was done for, unless he could land some lucky fluke in a knockout blow.
"Go right in and land that youngster," Treadwell's own seconds were advising him.

"Don't let him have the satisfaction of standing up to you for three whole rounds or more." "Do you think that little teaser is as easy as he looks ?" growled Treadwell.
"Oh, Darrin is all right at his own weight," admitted Midshipman Conners.

"But he has no business with you, Tread.