“Say—did you go to do that?” he roared.
“You hit me first,” replied Ned, angrily.
With a volley of oaths, and a kick and a blow delivered together, Big Mike charged at him—a regular wildcat.
A little murmur of “Oh’s” and “Ah’s” went up from Ned’s sympathizers.
“Give it to him, Mike! Give it to him!” cheered the South Beauforters, crazy with delight.
The blow took Ned on the top of the head; but the kick fell short. Ned grabbed the leg and heaved up on it, until Big Mike tottered and took a heavy fall.
He was on his feet in an instant, and with head down butted for Ned’s stomach. Hindered by the crafty gang Ned could do nothing but accept the attack, and bump his opponent’s nose with his lifted knee; and now Big Mike, head into his stomach, had him tightly about the waist and was striving to bend him backward. Ned doubled forward and while trying to keep his balance reached under and punched Big Mike’s face.
It was a deadlock, Big Mike straining, and Ned poking, and neither much the worse off.
But the South Beauforters could not hold back any longer. Weaving in and out so as always to be back of Ned as the fighters shifted and struggled in a circle, they aimed treacherous blows at him; and at this crisis little Patsy, keen to aid his brother, darting in seized Ned by the ankles and enabled Big Mike to bring him to the ground.
“Shame! No fair!” cried indignant boys and girls.