CHAPTER XVIII.
FIGHTING THE FAMOUS DOUBLE BATTLE "It wasn't fair," hissed Midshipman Page hotly.
"It was by a mighty small margin, anyway," quivered Farley.
"I don't feel whipped yet," remarked Dave quietly.
"Oh, well, Darry," urged Farley, "don't feel humiliated over being thrashed by such a human mountain of a top classer." Dave, whose chest had been heaving, and whose lungs had been taking in great gulps of air, suddenly pushed his second gently away.
"Mr.Treadwell, sir, will you come over here a moment ?" he called.

"And also the officials of the fight ?" Treadwell, with a self-satisfied leer on his face, stepped away from his seconds coming jauntily over.
Midshipman Edgerton and Wheeler followed in some wonder.
"Mr.Treadwell," began Dave, looking full into the eyes of his late antagonist, "I have no fault, sir, to find with your style of fighting.
You behaved fairly at every point." "Thank you, sir," interjected the big midshipman grimly.
"The verdict was also fair enough," Dave continued, "for I am aware that I took a hair's-breadth more than the count.

Still, I do not feel, Mr.
Treadwell, that the result was decisive.

Therefore I have to ask of you the favor of another early meeting, for a more definite try-out." Treadwell gasped.

So did his recent seconds and the late officials of the fight.