He laughed, and the devils in his eyes danced right out to the surface of them.
“I asked you a plain question,” he said, “and I’d like the favour of a plain answer. Do you think you can lick me as well as your rural friends?”
“I can,” said I shortly.
He ran his arm through mine eagerly.
“Come on!” he cried, “on to West Ninth!”
We found two of my roommates smoking and talking before the tiny open fire. Talbot Ward, full of the business in hand, rushed directly at the matter once the introductions were over.
Our arrangements were very simple; the chairs were few and pushed back easily, and we had an old set of gloves.
11“Which is it to be?” I asked my guest, “boxing or wrestling?”
“I said you couldn’t lick me,” he replied. “Boxing is a game with rules; it isn’t fighting at all.”
“You want to bite and gouge and scratch, then?” said I, greatly amused.