"Watch me reduce that b.j.plebe to powder! I hope they have a spare cot for him over at hospital." Again the referee set them at it.
Mr.Spurlock encountered a mild surprise, for now Dick seemed less inclined to trust to his nimble feet.

He put up a stand-up front, though several of Spurlock's sledge-hammer blows passed over Dick's falling head.
Then the yearling began to fight lower.
The plebe put up a good series of counters, though he took another bit of punishment in the short ribs, and began to back away.
Across the room, Mr.Spurlock began driving his victim, slowly but systematically.
Dick retreated, putting up the best guard he could, dodging when he had to.
But the yearling, full of the grim spirit of the thing, pursued without undue haste, driving the plebe, a foot at a time, clean across the room toward the opposite wall.
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..