At last Spurlock had his victim all but leaning against the wall,
sorely pressed. Then, with a sudden tensing of his muscles, the
yearling let his left drive to "paste" the plebe's head against the
hard wall.
CHAPTER X
THE "BEAST" WHO SCORED
SMASH!
But the plebe wasn't there. Dick Prescott had counted on this, and
had wriggled out by a duck and a plunge forward that carried him
beyond momentary risk of Mr. Spurlock's following right.
The yearling's left fist landed with such force as to cause a half
square yard of plaster to fall with a thud.
With a yell of disgust Spurlock wheeled about, but the plebe was
waiting for him.
At just the right instant, Dick let fly with all his might with his
own left.
It caught the yearling over the right eye, closing it.
Just three or four feet back danced Prescott, then came forward
again. A blow set the yearling's nose to bleeding afresh.
Then bang! went the other eye closed. The upper class men gasped
with astonishment, for Spurlock was now getting into bad shape.
He was all but dazed, in fact; and had twenty-five seconds yet to
go in the round.
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