"I wish the boys might see this," breathed Tad, fascinated by the sight in spite of himself.
"So do I," grinned Bud.
"Did you ever see a battle of this kind?" asked the lad.
"Not like this. I've seen stallions fight, yes, but never such a scrap as this. Looks as if they'd be fighting all day. But they won't."
"Why not? They seem as strong as when they began."
"They are, but they're getting careless. They're taking longer chances every round. First thing you know, one of them will get kicked into the middle of next week. Whoop! That was a dandy!"
The Angel had planted both hind hoofs fairly on the side of Satan's head.
Satan had gone down. But when the white stallion made a leap, with the intention of springing upon his prostrate victim, the black rolled to one side, and in a twinkling had fastened his teeth upon his adversary's leg.
Only for a brief second did he cling there, then throwing himself out of the way sprang to his feet. The two animals met with a terrific crash, head-on.
Biting, kicking, screaming out their wild challenges of defiance the battle waxed hotter, faster and more furious.