“Nor I, but I’ll be there. Don’t you worry,” Bob replied, as he reached for the plate of fresh cakes which the cook’s helper had just brought in.
Both boys knew that a wrestling match between Jean Larue and Pierre le Blanc would be worth going miles to see. Both were big men and well known for their deeds of strength and athletic ability. Pierre was a good-natured, generous fellow and was a favorite with his companions. Jean, at the beginning of the winter, had been the bully of the camp. An arrogant braggart, he had been feared and hated by the greater part of the crew. Just after Christmas Bob, who with his brother had come to the camp for their winter vacation, had had a fight with the Frenchman and, thanks to his superior knowledge of boxing, had given him a sound whipping. This seemed to have broken the man’s spirit; but, a short time later, the boys saved his life and to their great joy he became a different man. All his old arrogance was gone and he became one of the most popular members of the crew.
“Come on dar,” Pierre shouted, as he pushed back his chair. “You hav’ now eat enough for two men. Eef you eat mooch more eet will be no fun to put you on your back.”
“Huh, I, Jean Larue, will geeve you all der fun you want in one leetle minute,” Jean retorted, as he too jumped up from his chair and started for the door, followed by the entire crew.
The snow still lay deep in the woods, but in front of the bunk house it was packed hard, making a smooth although a slippery floor. Once outside in the crisp air, the two men quickly pulled off their heavy mackinaws and thick woolen shirts.
“My, what men,” Bob whispered, as they stood there stripped to the waist.
Physically, at least, they were deserving of the exclamation. Big and thick set, without an ounce of superfluous flesh on their torsos, the muscles played in ripples beneath the smooth skin.
No complicated set of rules governed an impromptu match of this kind. No getting of three points on the ground was necessary to win. The first man down was the loser, and in case both came down together, the man on top was the winner.
A stranger would have thought, from the appearance of the men, that it was to be a fight to the finish, but all present knew that the two were great friends and that the loser would take his defeat in good part and hope to win the next time. However, they had seen the two men wrestle before and knew that each would exert himself to the utmost to win.
For some moments the two giants circled around each other, watching with hawk-like keenness for an opening. The right hold meant half the battle, as they well knew, and a false hold might well mean defeat. Suddenly, seeing his chance, Pierre leaped forward and caught his opponent about the waist. And then the real struggle began.