Bennett fairly gnashed his teeth and put forth furious endeavors to break down his antagonist’s guard.
“Save your breath, man,” said Cody, knowing that his advice would have exactly a contrary effect upon Bennett. “I’m only playing with you yet.”
“It’s the worst game you ever played, Bill Cody!”
Cody thought so himself, but he smiled back into the other’s eyes, and the man’s rage grew.
“I’ll get you yet!” roared Bennett.
“But not that way,” muttered the scout. “Ah! Now we have it!”
With a sudden turn of his wrist he almost brought Bennett to his knees. Both men clung so tightly to each other’s left wrists, however, that little advantage was to be gained by sudden twists. It was the steady pressure of steel against steel that would finally gain the day. One arm must be stronger than the other—one foot more skilful—one eye more true.
“This is a bad end for you, Boyd Bennett!” began Cody again.
He was scarcely panting himself; but the other was breathing hard, gnashing his teeth, rolling his eyes, like a veritable madman. He screamed with rage at this remark of the scout’s, and the froth flew from his lips. If ever a man was mad, Boyd Bennett was that person.
“And all for what?” quoth the scout. “What did you make by it? The girl would have nothing to do with you. Had you remained in Oak Heart’s camp you might have finished me. But not that way!” guarding himself from a furious lunge of the other’s knife.