“Enough of this,” he said sternly. “Put up your swords.”
“I have no desire to fight,” replied Hal calmly.
“I know you haven’t,” sneered the Russian. “You are afraid. But I demand satisfaction for that blow.”
“Well,” said Alexis, “if you must fight, let it be with fists.”
“Any way suits me,” said the Russian.
“If he insists on a fight, I am willing to give it to him,” said Hal, and quickly threw off his coat.
The Russian also discarded his heavy coat, and the two squared off. It was perfectly plain to Hal that the Russian, although considerably larger than himself, was no boxer, and he had little doubt of the outcome, for the lad was proficient in the use of his fists.
The Russian came forward with a rush. Hal sidestepped neatly, and the huge fist passed by harmlessly. Hal sent a quick sharp blow to the Russian’s cheek, staggering him a bit. The latter turned and again rushed at the lad.
Quite a crowd had now collected around the combatants and watched the contest eagerly. As the Russian rushed at him this time, Hal struck up the blow with his left forearm, and stepping in close planted his right over his opponent’s heart. The Russian staggered back, and at the same time Hal sent a series of left and right jabs to his opponent’s face.
But the Russian, recovering, bored in again, striking out wildly at the lad. The latter gave a clever exhibition of footwork, and not a single blow landed. At the same time he continued to tap the Russian lightly on either side of the face.