Each man had now turned; the seconds jumped nimbly around, the referee following, while Jennison, his gaze mostly on the watch, jumped nimbly into a corner that he judged would not be used by the fighters.
"This isn't a sprint," sneered Spurlock, as he followed nimble Plebe Prescott around, Dick doing some saving dodging, ducking and sidestepping.
Nearly a dozen of Spurlock's blows Prescott succeeded in escaping, though the plebe was kept so busily on the defensive that he could not get back with anything to count.
"Stand up, you jumping-jack!" hissed Spurlock.
He did get in a short-arm jab on Dick's right lower ribs that made the plebe gasp audibly.
Spurlock now started in to take advantage of this by getting the plebe going.

Dick, however, dodged less and countered better.

He took two nasty blows, then Mr.Jennison called.
"Time!" "You're standing him off a heap better than I thought you could," whispered Anstey, as he and Greg sponged the plebe fighter off quickly and then began to knead his muscles.

While this was still going on the referee again summoned the fighters forward.
The second round started.

As before, Prescott kept mainly on the defensive, though always watching his chance to come back at his more powerful opponent.