It made no difference, for Darry met him squarely, and after a rapid interchange of blows that brought out many a whoop from those who looked on, Jim once more received an unexpected tap that caused him to sit down a second time.
He was in no hurry to get up now, but sat there in a half-dazed way, rubbing the side of his head, and gritting his teeth savagely.
The crowd began to cheer, and it must have been a galling sound to that defeated bully, whose hour had come, as it usually does with most of his kind.
"Get up!" said one man, jeeringly.
Jim scrambled to his feet, to find his antagonist facing him in a manner that made him quail.
"Are you done, or shall we go on with it?" asked Darry, calmly, for he did not seem to have been even winded in the exchange of blows.
"Ah, git out. Me hand is sprained, I tell ye. I fell on it last night. That's why I couldn't knock yer out. This thing ain't done yet, cub. I'll git yer as sure as me name is Jim Dilks. I allers do wen I goes arter a feller."
He turned away with his head tossed in the air as though victory had really perched upon his banner.
