Darrin had determined to keep himself out of the way of those sledge-hammer fists until he saw his own clear opening.
Four or five times Treadwell landed heavily on Darrin's ribs.

The younger, smaller midshipman was getting seriously winded, but all the time he fought to save himself and to get that one opening.
It came.
Pound! Darrin's hard-clenched left fist dropped in on Treadwell's right eye.
This time there was no exclamation from the bruised one.
Alert Dave was careful to give him no chance.

Within a second after that eye-closer landed Darrin struck with his right, landing on the jaw bone under Treadwell's ear.
Down in a heap sank the top classman.

He was unconscious before his body struck the ground.
Wheeler counted off the seconds.
"-- ten!" Still Mr.Treadwell lay motionless.
"Do your best for him, gentlemen," begged Referee Edgerton, turning to the first classman's seconds.

"Mr.Darrin wins the second fight." Dave, a satisfied look on his face, stepped back to his seconds.
This time he did not require as much attention.