Pat fumed; then dove forward again, attempting to encircle Tom’s waist with his gorilla-like arms.
“Watch out, Tom!” screamed Ben, torn with alarm.
But the agile Tom was smart enough to escape the trap. Quick as a rabbit he whirled sidewise, at the same time plunging his elbow hard into Pat’s stomach. Then he dodged low, underneath Pat’s hairy arms, and threw himself to one side, out of danger. In a trice he was up, alertly facing his opponent again.
Fagan stood stock-still, glowering sullenly at his nimble adversary. He panted heavily for a few seconds, then charged once more. This time he got a partial clutch on Tom’s arm, and yanked him toward him. The boy wrenched loose, but the same time unluckily lost his balance and went sprawling backwards.
“Pat’s got him now!” gloated the wizened Pete; and Ben gave another yell of alarm, as he saw his brother go down, flat as a pancake.
Pat leaped eagerly toward the prostrate boy, expecting to pin him to the ground and beat him half senseless. But Tom was quick as a cat. He turned over with lightning speed and rolled swiftly to one side. Pat came down clawing nothing but the air, mud and grass. Hot with thwarted fury, he scrambled to his feet and faced Tom again.
Now Pat rushed anew; but it was noticeable that his rush was shorter and more feeble. This time he stumbled and went down on his hands and knees, as Tom slipped easily away.
“C’mon!” snarled the infuriated soldier. “Stand up an’ fight like a man, yuh slinkin’ ’fraidy-cat!”
It was clear that Fagan was trying to get Tom mad, so that he would wade in and mix it hammer and tongs. But Tom, though young in years, had an old head on his shoulders. He was too cagy to be caught in Pat’s snare. He merely danced about with fists ready, and on his face a cool and exasperating smile.
Fagan made another bull-like rush; but to no avail. Tom dodged away like a shadow. Now Pat stood stock-still again. The look of surprise was growing on his puffed, bloody face; for he had taken several, straight, heavy punches. Furthermore, he was now blowing and puffing like a heavey horse. On the other hand, Tom was still breathing pretty evenly, but his arms and shoulders were getting sore and bruised from warding off Pat’s desperate swings.