He seemed as
light as a cat. Greer stood solid and merely turned on his flat feet.
Suddenly Caradoc's long right whipped out with a crack against the
shorter man's forehead. Greer made no sign of having received a blow,
although a dull red splotch slowly formed on his frontal. Caradoc led
another right, which Greer blocked, then the Englishman bored through
with a stinging left to the hairy chest.
"Go afther him! Kill him!" cried Hogan to his principal. "Nixt toime he
thries to hit ye, knock off his head for his impidence!"
"Aye, 'it 'im! Don't take nothin' off of 'im!" advised two of the
cockneys. Sympathy lay with the smaller man.
Smith continued his tiptoe dance and led a straight right. Instantly his
massive enemy ducked, leaped in under his guard, and there came the dull
thud of in-fighting; Greer's black head jammed up against Caradoc's
chin, his great muscular back bent half double, his tremendous arms
working like pistons.
The crew howled at this sharp unexpected attack. Caradoc rescued himself
by shoving open palms against the big bulging shoulders, and pushing
himself away from this battering ram. Smith bumped into some onlookers,
and got behind his guard some ten feet away from Greer. The Englishman's
fine-grained stomach was covered with pink welts from his punishment.
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