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Roger danced in and out, watching Tom's left as though it was a snake and trying unsuccessfully to get through his guard. But the sharp lefts kept snapping his head back and his face began to redden, not only from the sting of the blows but with the mounting fury of his frustration.

Suddenly, as Astro raised his arm to call time for the end of the round, Roger jumped forward and rained another series of harmless blows on Tom's shoulders and arms. But then, as the big Venusian called time, he stepped back and Tom dropped his guard. Instantly, Roger threw a right with all his weight behind it. It landed flush on Tom's jaw and he dropped, sprawling full length on the mats and lying still.

Smiling, Roger sauntered to his corner while Astro charged in and bent over the fallen cadet.

"None of that, Astro!" snapped Roger. "Since when does a referee take sides? Leave him alone! If he doesn't come out for the next round, you have to count him out!"

The big Venusian straightened and walked menacingly toward Roger's corner. "You hit him after I called time," he growled.

"So I have to take you on too, huh?" Roger jumped to his feet. "All right—come on, you big blast of space gas!"

"Wait, Astro… wait!"

Astro suddenly wheeled around to see Tom shaking his head weakly and trying to rise up on his elbows. He rushed back to the fallen boy's side.

Roger shouted at him angrily, "Leave him alone!"

"Ahhh—go blow your jets!" was Astro's snarling reply as he bent over Tom, who was now sitting up. "Tom, are you O.K.?"

"Yeah—yeah," he replied weakly. "But stay out of this. You're the referee. How much time left?"

"Twenty seconds," said Astro. "Roger smacked you after I called time."

"If he did, I didn't know a thing about it. I was out." Tom managed a cold smile. "Nice punch, Roger."

"Ten seconds," said Astro, stepping back off the mat.

"Thanks for the compliment, Corbett." Roger eyed the other cadet speculatively. "But are you sure you want to go on?"

"I was saved by the bell, wasn't I?"

"Yeah—sure—but if you'd rather quit—"

"Time!" cried Astro.

Tom rose to his feet—shook his head—and brought up his hands. He wasn't a moment too soon. Roger had rushed across the mat, trying to land another murderous right. Tom brought up his shoulder just in time, slipping with the punch, and at the same time, bringing up a terrific left to Roger's open mid-section. Manning let out a grunt and clinched. Tom pursued his advantage, pumping rights and lefts to the body, and he could feel the arrogant cadet weakening. Suddenly, Roger crowded in close, wrestling Tom around so that Astro was on the opposite side of the mat, then brought up his head under Tom's chin. The pop of Tom's teeth could be heard all over the great hall. Roger quickly stepped back, and back-pedaled until Astro called time.

"Thanks for teaching me that one, Roger. Learned two tricks from you today," said Tom, breathing heavily, but with the same cold smile on his face.

"That's all right, Corbett. Any time," said Manning.

"What tricks?" asked Astro. He looked suspiciously at Manning, who was doubled over, finding it hard to breath.

"Nothing I can't handle in time," said Tom, looking at Roger.

"Time!" called Astro and stepped off the mat.

The two boys got to their feet slowly. The pace was beginning to show on them and they boxed carefully.

The boys were perfectly matched, Tom constantly snapping Roger's head back with the jolting left jabs and following to the head or heart with a right cross. And Roger counterpunching, slipping hooks and body punches in under Tom's long leads. It was a savage fight. The three weeks of hard physical training had conditioned the boys perfectly.

At the end of the twelfth round, both boys showed many signs of wear. Roger's cheeks were as red as the glow of a jet blast deflector from the hundreds of lefts Tom had pumped into his face, while Tom's ribs and mid-section were bruised and raw where Roger's punches had landed successfully.

It couldn't last much longer, thought Astro,