"Burst him up!" he yelled.
"Sure," I answered. My anger had subsided, and a feeling of confidence had taken its place.
"Will ye, be God!" cried Gahey, and he rushed at me like a mad wind, landing his brown hard fists repeatedly on my face and chest, and receiving no chastisement in return.
"I'll burst yer ear!" he cried, and did so, smashing the lobe with one of his lightning blows. The blood from the wound fell on my shoulders for the rest of the fight. Another blow, a light one on the stomach, sickened me slightly, and my confidence began to ooze away from me. It went completely when I endeavoured to trip my opponent, and got tripped myself instead. My head took the ground, and I felt a little groggy when I regained my feet; but in rising I got in a sharp jab to Gahey's nose and drew blood again.
The battle sobered down a little. Both of us circled around, looking for an opening. Suddenly I drove forward with my right, passed Gahey's guard, and with a well-directed blow on the chest, I lifted him neatly off his feet, and left him sitting on the ground. Rising, he rushed at me furiously, caught me by the legs, raised, and tried to throw me over his shoulders.
Then the fight turned in my favour. I had once on my wanderings met a man who had been a wrestler, and he taught me certain tricks of his art. I had a good opening before me now for one of them. Gahey had hold of me by the knees, and both his arms were twined tightly around my joints. I stooped over him, gripped him around the waist, and threw myself backwards flat to the ground. As I reached the earth I let Gahey go, and flying clean across my head, he slid along the rough ground on his naked back. When he regained his feet I was up and ready for him, and I knocked him down again with a good blow delivered on the fleshy part, where the lower ribs fork inward to the breast-bone. That settled him for good. The crowd cheered enthusiastically and went back to their cards. One or two stopped with Gahey, and it took him half an hour to recover. When he was well again Moleskin and I escorted him back to the shack.
We washed our wounds together and talked of everything but the fights which had just taken place. The result of the quarrels seemed to have had no effect on the men, but my heart was jumping out of my mouth with pleasure. I had beaten one of the great fighters of Kinlochleven; I, a boy of nineteen, who had never shaved yet, had knocked Gahey to the ground with a good hard punch, and Gahey was a man twice my age and one who was victor in a thousand battles. Excitement seized hold of me, my step became alert, and I walked into the shack with the devil-may-care swagger of a fighting man. The gamblers were sitting at the table and the bright glitter of silver caught my eye. Big Jim Maloney was banker.
"Come here, ye fightin' men," he cried; "and take a hand at another game."
The excitement was on me. In my pocket I had three shillings sub., and I put it down on the board, the whole amount, as befitted a fighting man. I won once, twice, three times. I called for drinks for the school. I put Maloney out of the bank, I backed any money, and all the time I won. The word passed round that Flynn was playing a big game; he would back any money. More and more men came in from the other shacks and remained. I could hear the clink of bottles all round me. The men were drinking, smoking, and swearing, and those who could not get near the table betted on the result of the game.