It was the call of the watch-holder, and, as he spoke the word, two scantily clad figures leaped toward each other.
“Take him easy now, Cap!” cautioned Bill to his larger brother.
“Go in and finish him!” advised Mersfeld to North, for whom he was acting as second. Merton was keeping time, and Ward, the other Senior who had been the unbidden guest at the little spread was referee.
It was the fight between North and Cap Smith—the fight which was the inevitable outcome of the interference when the bully was mistreating little Harvey.
The contest took place where all such affairs were “pulled off,” if I may use such a term, in a well-secluded spot back of the baseball grandstand.
“Watch his left!” was the further advice of Bill, who was acting as second, gave to his brother, while Mersfeld sarcastically cut in with:
“Look out for biting in the clinches, North.”
It was a useless insult, for Cap never answered it.
Narrowly he watched his opponent, looking into his eyes, and trying to guess, by close observations of those organs, how the lead would be.
Out shot North’s left, after a weak feint with his right. Cap was not deceived. Cleverly he blocked the blow and countered with his left. His aim was a bit short, but it caught North over the eye, too lightly to raise a mark, however.