At a little after half past eight Mr. Anstey knocked on the door and
came in.
"How's your form, Prescott, old ramrod?" the Virginian demanded.
"Fine, I hope," replied Dick laconically.
Greg heaved an inward sigh.
"Poor old Dick," he told himself. "I hate to see him hammered
black and blue in a bare-knuckles fight like this one!"
CHAPTER IX
PLEBE PRESCOTT'S FIRST FIGHT
"We'd better get on hand early," advised Greg. "You want to take
plenty of time about stripping for the fight. It would be throwing
some of your chances away, Dick, for you to strip and prepare
hurriedly, and step into the ring all flustered."
"You think I'm going to lose, don't you, Greg?" demanded Prescott
grimly.
"Oh, I hope not," protested Cadet Holmes staunchly.
"But you think so, just the same," smiled Dick. "Now, Greg, do
you remember the old Gridley High School spirit? Do you
remember that our coaches told us to enter every battle on gridiron
or diamond with the firm conviction that we couldn't be beaten?
That's the old Grid. spirit that has been stealing over me the last
few hours.
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