The spots disappeared before his eyes and things ceased to swim around him.
Into the ring to meet his foe sprang Frank, and, to the astonishment of everybody he still smiled.
At the same time, Merriwell knew he had toyed with Diamond too long.

He realized that the Virginian's first blow had come within a hair of knocking him out, and he could still hear a faint, ringing and roaring in his head.
Frank saw that the only way he could end the fight was to finish his unrelenting and persistent foe.
Diamond fought like an infuriated tiger.

Again and again Frank's fist cracked on his face, and still he did not falter, but continued to stand up and "take his medicine." In less than a minute the Virginian was bleeding at the nose, and had received a blow in one of his eyes that was causing it to swell in a way that threatened to close it entirely.
The spectators were greatly excited, and not a few of them declared it was the most gamey fight they had ever witnessed.
The front of Diamond's shirt was stained with blood, and he presented a sorry aspect.

His chest was heaving, but his uninjured eye glared with unabated fury and determination.
"Will he never give up ?" muttered Harry Rattleton.

"He's a regular hog! The fellow doesn't know when he has enough." It was true Southern grit.