But, after all, there wasn’t much time for studying the enemy, for the enemy was clearly impatient for a renewal of hostilities. Monty was forced to acknowledge, albeit a bit grudgingly, that the black-haired chap had plenty of spunk. The recess lasted less than a minute, and then they drew together again, Monty stepping cautiously with guard down, and the other dancing lightly on nimble feet, hands up and moving impatiently, dark eyes snapping, mouth close shut, and with a little droop at one corner.
The space they had found was barely twelve feet in length along the river bank, and less than half that in depth, and the ground was hummocky. Small bushes, protruding roots and withered brakes made uncertain footing, and the light was going fast. It was very quiet, save for the gurgle of water where the river washed past a pile of driftwood, and for the deep breathing of the two boys and the brush of their feet through the low bushes and yellowing fronds. Then the black-haired youth rushed and Monty met the onslaught.
As a boxer, Monty was not clever, and while he managed to escape punishment for a moment or two, and to even land once against the enemy’s neck, he was presently giving back. His opponent fought like fury, but with a science that was something of a revelation to Monty. He had a most disturbing way of leaving his right side unguarded, and then, when Monty tried to reach his head, ducking aside and at the same instant swinging up with his right with disastrous effect to Monty’s left ear! And every time Monty tried to beat down his guard, and get his hands on him he was brought up all-standing. It was after his opponent had landed a fourth or fifth blow to the head that Monty’s temper gave way, and, utterly regardless of consequences then, he hurled himself on the other under a rain of blows, and wrapped his arms around his body. Then his right leg went back, his grasp fell to the other’s waist, and he bore backward. A shower of short-arm blows was ringing against the back of his head and neck, and he was growing dizzy under them when, with a sudden, quick heave, he lifted the other from his feet, and sent him crashing backward to the ground. Monty was on him before he could move, pinioning his arms to the earth.
“Coward!” gasped the other. “Fight fair!”
“That was a fair throw!” grunted Monty. “Give up, do you?”
“No! Get off me! Let me up!”
“Not much, partner!” answered Monty grimly. “You’ve made jelly of my ear, I guess. You’ll stay where you are now until you cry quits.”
“Coward!” taunted the other again, writhing under the weight that held him helpless. “Can’t you fight with your fists?”
“Not so well as I can wrestle,” replied Monty calmly. “Better stop kicking, you!”
“Let me up! Fight decently, you—you cad!”