Deschaillon?" asked Smith with a set face.
The Gaul arose, saluted, military fashion, with a clicking of heels.
"Eet ees an honor, M'sieu!"
Greer stared around dourly. "Hogan?"
The Irishman leaped to his feet joyfully. "Oi'm wid ye, Misther Greer,
and we'll bate th' long face off th' spalpeen, though I hate to hit
Frinchy Dashalong, who is a good frind o' mine."
All the men were up now circling about the principals.
"You don't have to do no fightin', 'Ogan," explained Galton, "you simply
stand by and 'old up for your man, an' 'elp fan 'im 'twixt rounds."
"Rounds!" exclaimed the disgusted Irishman. "I thought they were
choosin' sides for a free-for-all."
Caradoc began methodically stripping to the waist and Greer followed
suit. The Englishman presented his watch to Madden with a slight bow.
"If you'll be so kind as to keep time," he suggested, "that's a neutral
position. We fight four minutes and rest one."
Madden considered the warlike preparations askance. He wondered if he
ought not to stop it. The Englishman might suffer another sunstroke.
However, he took his station at the ringside, and glanced at the watch,
which had a coat of arms carved on the inside of its hunting case.
There was a striking contrast between the two fighters.
Pages:
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135