"But what do you want it for?"
"Gr-r-r—!" I snarled, and shoved my spread hand into his face. He landed on his back ten feet away. The C.P.O. friend of Meagher's started to smile at me, but before he could get the smile well under way I wiped it off. He fell where he stood. Meagher looked at me and I at him.
"That wasn't right," said Meagher.
"I'll make it right," I said, "with you or him or whoever else doesn't like it, now or later."
He went white; and the kind that go white are finish fighters. And he was a good big man with more than muscle under his coat.
"Make it right now," he said. "But not here—some place where the crowd won't be."
We moved over to under the grand stand. That was at half past five o'clock and it was a long summer's day, but it took till the daylight was all but gone before I knocked him down for the last time.
It took till the daylight was all but gone before
I knocked him down for the last time.