Joe had been so pounded and knocked about by his hilarious comrades that he was later in dressing than most of his mates, many of whom had finished and drifted away from the clubhouse to get ready for the train ride home. By the time Joe had completed his bath, the only occupants besides himself and Jim were Hupft and McCarney.
Just as Joe stepped from under the shower Hupft came past him hurriedly and stepped on Joe’s bare foot with his own heavily shod foot. The pain was excruciating and Joe gave vent to an exclamation.
“What do you mean by that?” he demanded.
“Aw, what are you grouching about?” growled Hupft. “Do you think I did it on purpose?”
But Joe had caught a triumphant gleam in his eyes that belied his words.
“I know you did!” he cried. “Now, Reddy Hupft, I’m going to pay you something of what I owe you.”
His fist shot out with a terrific impact against Reddy’s jaw. The latter staggered and almost fell, but, recovering himself, rushed furiously at Joe.
The latter met him with a straight left that shook him from head to heels. Two others followed, delivered with such force that Hupft measured his length on the floor.
McCarney had made a move to rush to Hupft’s assistance, but Jim barred the way with blazing eyes.
“No, you don’t!” he cried. “One move, and I’ll smash you to bits!”