“Sure enough,” said Uncle Isaac; “he’ll handle him.”
“John,” said the captain, “has gone to Tom Stanley’s to buy a yoke of oxen; but I’ve got a horse that will go there and back in three quarters of an hour, if anybody will drive him.”
“I’ll go,” said Fred.
By the time John arrived, half the town was there. A ring was made before the door.
“You’ve brought a man big enough this time,” said the stranger, looking up at John, who towered far above him.
They took hold. John threw him as easily as he had thrown Fred, while shout after shout went up from the crowd, who had been holding their breath, in anxious suspense.
“You crushed me down by main strength,” said the stranger; “but I would like to try you at arms’ length.”
They took hold at arms’ length, and although the grapple was longer, John threw him twice.
“You have stout men up in this place,” said he. “I am thirty years old next July, and this is the first time I’ve been thrown since I was nineteen.”