"Now, look here, 'Bull,' I want none of your 'sissie,' do you understand?" Frank exclaimed, his voice trembling.
"Who are you calling 'Bull,' little girl?" roared Bill. "Another word and I'll smash you."
The "sissie" and the "little girl" got under Frank's skin. For a moment he neither saw nor heard anything. He was ready to fight. His blood tingled. But he gripped himself and swallowed his retort just as Daly, mistaking the silence for cowardice, rushed forward and struck him a blow in the face. Like a flash, the color came to Frank's face. He had gone the limit and the lion in him was let loose. Any fellow who had played football against Frank would have known what that meant. With set, determined face, speaking not a word, he squared off.
"So you want to fight, do you, you doll?" roared Daly.
Not a word from Frank. Instead, he held his attitude of fight and approached his tormentor.
"Oh, you are pie for me, candy kid. I could lick you with one hand. You'll never want another fight when this is over."
Never a word from Frank. The crowd made a circle. The whole thing happened so suddenly that it was in full swing before they knew it.
As Frank came up to Daly, the bully hauled off and gave him a straight blow on the forehead. It rang like a ball from a bat. It staggered Frank. But he came right on. He did not strike a blow, but simply stood up before his opponent with arms at guard. Again Daly launched a blow. This time it took Frank on the top of the head. Bill was nearly two years older than his opponent and much taller and heavier. But Frank had grit. The fellows said that they never knew anyone who had so much "sand" as Mulvy. He needed it now. Daly was infuriated. He rushed at Frank hitting him on the head and neck and chest. All of a sudden, without a word, straight from the shoulder, Frank sent a terrific jolt to Daly's jaw. He roared and tore and threatened. Frank did not open his mouth. He kept his eyes on Bill, and was cool and firm. He waited for the next on-rush. It came like a whirlwind. Bill crashed into him, swinging blindly in his rage, hitting here and there. Frank took his punishment and coolly studied his opponent.
Bill rose on his toes to come down with a swing on Frank's face. In an instant, while Bill's face was completely unguarded, Frank drove home a blow right on his nose. The blood spurted and at the sight of it, both fighters clinched and pounded as hard as they could. Finally, in the struggle, Frank slipped and fell. Immediately, Bill was on top of him.
By this time, Bill realized that he was in a fight. Frank's blows, though fewer, told effectively and Bill began to fear that if the fight went on, he might lose it. So, as he had Frank under him, he yelled, "Do you give up?" No reply. "Do you hear, do you give up? I have given you enough. If you say you are licked, I'll let up." Not a word from Frank. Instead, he wriggled from under, worked himself free, smashed Daly a fierce blow on the ear, and another on the jaw. Bill had all he could take and as they stood up again, face to face, the "Bull" and the "Girl" paused, glaring at each other.