But now his tactics were wholly changed.
His method of wrestling was unlike any that Ned had ever seen or heard of.
Yet how deadly it was the boy quickly began to experience.
Kennell's fingers, spread like the talons of a hawk, glided here and there about the lad's body rapidly as the undulating movements of a snake. Wherever they touched, the boy felt a sharp shock of intense pain shoot through his frame.
Beads of cold perspiration jetted out on his forehead.
A numbing sickness seized hold of him.
And still Kennell's deadly fingers pressed here, there, and everywhere, bringing the sickening agony that Ned had already tasted in their wake.
The very fact that he could not understand what was happening added to the boy's alarm.
He had been in many wrestling matches. In fact, he was a better performer on the mat than with the padded gloves, but in all his experience he had never met an opponent like Kennell.