Tom’sfacebeginstolookveryone-sided——therearelittlequeerbumpsonhisforehead，andhismouthisbleeding；butEastkeepsthewetspongegoingsoscientificallythathecomesuplookingasfreshandbrightasever。Williamsisonlyslightlymarkedintheface，butbythenervousmovementofhiselbowsyoucanseethatTom’sbodyblowsaretelling。Infact，halftheviceoftheSlogger’shittingisneutralized，forhedaren’tlungeoutfreelyforfearofexposinghissides。Itistoointerestingbythistimeformuchshouting，andthewholeringisveryquiet。
“Allright，Tommy，“whispersEast；“holdon’sthehorsethat’stowin。We’vegotthelast。Keepyourhead，oldboy。“
ButwhereisArthurallthistime？Wordscannotpaintthepoorlittlefellow’sdistress。Hecouldn’tmustercouragetocomeuptothering，butwanderedupanddownfromthegreatfivescourttothecornerofthechapelrails，nowtryingtomakeuphismindtothrowhimselfbetweenthem，andtrytostopthem；thenthinkingofrunninginandtellinghisfriendMary，who，heknew，wouldinstantlyreporttotheDoctor。Thestorieshehadheardofmenbeingkilledinprize-fightsroseuphorriblybeforehim。
Onceonly，whentheshoutsof“Welldone，Brown！““HuzzafortheSchool-house！“rosehigherthanever，heventureduptothering，thinkingthevictorywaswon。CatchingsightofTom’sfaceinthestateIhavedescribed，allfearofconsequencesvanishingoutofhismind；herushedstraightofftothematron’sroom，beseechinghertogetthefightstopped，orheshoulddie。
Butit’stimeforustogetbacktotheclose。Whatisthisfiercetumultandconfusion？Theringisbroken，andhighandangrywordsarebeingbandiedabout。“It’sallfair“——“Itisn’t“——“Nohugging！“Thefightisstopped。Thecombatants，however，sittherequietly，tendedbytheirseconds，whiletheiradherentswrangleinthemiddle。Eastcan’thelpshoutingchallengestotwoorthreeoftheotherside，thoughheneverleavesTomforamoment，andpliesthespongesasfastasever。