“True enough! Would you like to try it again?”
“Yes.”
“I’m ready.”
Gerald awaited the result not without anxiety. Certainly the two did not look very well matched. Jake Amsden was a broad-shouldered, powerfully built man of five feet ten, and would tip the scales at a hundred and eighty pounds. Noel Brooke was three inches shorter, and did not look to weigh over a hundred and fifty.
“I am afraid Jake will be too much for him,” he thought, “and if he is, it will be my turn next.”
Evidently Jake was of the same opinion.
“Why, you’re a Bantam compared to me,” he said. “You’ll think you’ve been struck by a cyclone.”
“Strike away—cyclone!” said the Englishman calmly.
Jake Amsden took him at his word. He advanced confidently, waving his arms like a flail, and tried to overwhelm his opponent at the first onslaught. But, intent on attack, he did not provide for defense, and received a powerful blow for which he was unprepared, and which quite staggered him. Now he began to get angry and renewed the attack with even less prudence than before. The result may easily be guessed. A blow behind the ear prostrated him, and he resumed his recumbent position.