“I don’t think so,” I replied; “I’d sooner have them off.”
In less than a minute our gloves were off and a ring was formed, seconds appointed, and we set to work deliberately to fight, for no other reason than to try who was the best man.
I had almost instantly decided what course to adopt in the encounter. Baldock was bigger and I believed stronger than I was, and was a good boxer; but I, from always running, especially with the beagles, was in the best condition. I was also quicker and more active on my legs than he was, and had great confidence in my hitting power. I at once found I had a great advantage in Baldock underrating me, for in the first round he tried to finish me off at once, and I consequently caught him three or four sharp hits without his once breaking through my guard or getting a blow home. This evidently annoyed him, and he did not use his head as well as he might have done. His advantages, therefore, were to some extent lost, and I certainly got the best of the first two rounds.
After this Baldock got more steady, and we fought on like two prizefighters for nearly three quarters of an hour, when the cadets round interfered and stopped us, victory having failed to declare on either side. We shook hands at the termination of the affair, and, as is not unusually the case, became the best of friends—so much so that in less than a fortnight afterwards Baldock was my assistant in a row, in which we were enabled to acquit ourselves creditably.
Baldock and I were walking one afternoon from Eltham, through the fields by Shooter’s Hill Wood, when we came to a stile on which two “louts,” as we termed them, were sitting. On our coming near them they did not attempt to move, but sat grinning at us.
“Why don’t you get off that stile,” said Baldock, “when you see people coming?”
“You can get through the ’edge as you’re a cat,” said one of them, “we ain’t a going to move for you!”
In an instant Baldock seized one of the louts by the legs and tumbled him backwards over the stile; he then jumped over, and I followed him; but as I did so I received a blow on the back of the head from a stone thrown by the lout on the stile. I was nearly stunned by the blow, but, recovering myself, called to Baldock to come back and thrash them. We both turned and walked towards the two men, who shouted, “Come on! we ain’t afraid of you!”
They certainly looked as if they were not afraid, and as if they ought not to be, for they were half as big again as we were, and in their rough clothes and great hob-nailed boots looked even bigger. The affair was a splendid example of skill and training versus brute force. The two louts had probably never before encountered opponents who were skilled in the use of their fists, and they merely swung their fists round without meaning. The consequence was, that in about seven minutes the louts were half blind, their noses were bleeding, and they were telling us they had had enough.
“Take care how you insult gentlemen cadets again,” said Baldock, “for there are fifty cadets who can thrash us with one hand!”