The two men sparred for a moment, gaging one another.
Then Battling Dago Pete swung a vicious left that landed
square on Billy's face. It was a blow that might have felled an
ox; but Billy only shook his head--it scarce seemed to jar
him. Pete had half lowered his hands as he recovered from the
blow, so sure he was that it would finish his new sparring
partner, and now before he could regain his guard the mucker
tore into him like a whirlwind. That single blow to the face
seemed to have brought back to Billy Byrne all that he ever
had known of the manly art of self-defense.
Battling Dago Pete landed a few more before the fight was
over, but as any old fighter will tell you there is nothing more
discouraging than to discover that your most effective blows
do not feeze your opponent, and only the knowledge of what
a defeat at the hands of a new sparring partner would mean
to his future, kept him plugging away at the hopeless task of
attempting to knock out this mountain of bone and muscle.
For a few minutes Billy Byrne played with his man, hitting
him when and where he would. He fought, crouching, much
as Jeffries used to fight, and in his size and strength was much
that reminded Cassidy of the fallen idol that in his heart of
hearts he still worshiped.
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