The Lakewood boys on the Lazy S

by L. P. Wyman

"It's pretty good when you know how to handle it."

The man had taken a step forward and, as Bob spoke, he suddenly aimed a blow at his head. Although Bob was on the watch for some such move, the quickness of it deceived him and the fist landed squarely on the point of his chin, and he went down. With an exultant cry the man sprang forward, but before he could reach him again the boy was on his feet. The blow, although a heavy one, had not landed with its full force as Bob had drawn his head back in time and he had fallen more because of catching his heel on a root than from the blow itself. The man hesitated as though surprised at the quickness with which Bob had got to his feet.

"So that's the way you play the game," Bob said.

"What you mean play the game?"

"Why, up where I come from when a man cries quits he's done, that's all."

"But I'm not done yer'll find out in 'bout a minute," he snarled as he sprang forward.

Bob dodged the blow without any great effort and, as he lurched by from the force with which he had struck, he got in a clip behind the ear which almost but not quite knocked him over. The man recovered himself and returned to the attack with a snarl of rage. But Bob was ready for him and as he rushed he caught him fairly on the point of the chin. It was a heavy blow and the man went down but he was not knocked out and was on his feet almost immediately. Evidently he realized by this time that he was no match for the boy with his fists for this time he rushed at him head down in an effort to catch him about the knees. It was exactly what Bob had been hoping for and he set himself to meet it, and the next instant a very surprised outlaw was flying through the air over his head to fall with a thud all the fight and most of the wind knocked out of him. It was a trick Bob had learned from the Jap teacher of wrestling at the college and it now stood him in good stead.

The outlaw writhed on the ground gasping for breath as Bob stepped up and stood over him.

"That's another good one," he told him, but he had not yet recovered his breath sufficiently to be able to speak.

Seeing that he was "hors de combat" for the present at least, Bob stepped a few feet away and began looking for the outlaw's gun. He knew the direction in which it had been cast, but it was some moments before he located it. When he returned the man was sitting up with his back against a tree but he was still having a hard time breathing.