ething of his style.

They had circled round several times, when Zeigler thought he saw his
chance, and feinting quickly, let fly with his left. Instead of parrying
the blow, Tom dodged it by throwing his head back. The opportunity was a
capital one to counter on Zeigler, but Tom made no effort to do so. It
looked as if he lacked the quickness and skill, and failed to see his
chance.

Zeigler now began edging nearer. He had come within an inch of reaching
the face of Tom, when he failed to counter. A little closer, and he was
sure he could "knock him out." At any rate, if he failed to do so, he had
nothing to fear from a foe who did not know enough to use an elemental
advantage.

A quick step forward at the instant of feinting with his right, and
Zeigler again let fly with his left straight from the shoulder. It was a
vicious blow, and, had it landed, would have done damage; but a flirt of
the head allowed it to glide harmlessly over the shoulder. At the instant
of doing so, Tom cross-countered with a quickness and force that could not
have been excelled. That is to say, as Zeigler's left glove was darting
past Tom's left ear, and the momentum of the young man's body was throwing
him forward, Tom's right hand shot across the extended arm of the other,
and landed with fearful force on the nose and mouth of his opponent.

It was a fierce drive; for its effect was intensified by the fact that
Tom's glove met the head of the other as it was coming toward him. It
would have been bad enough had it landed on a stationary object, but the
object was approaching from the opposite direction.

Tom and the two clerks were startled by the effect of the blow, for
Zeigler went down like a log, rolling over on his back, his hands
flapping full length above his head, while he lay perfectly unconscious.

But when water was dashed in his face he revived. It was some time before
he freed his mouth and nose of the crimson result of colliding with the
glove; but, aided by the clerks, he donned his coat and vest, and assumed
something like a presentable condition.

While this was going on, Tom Gordon sat in a chair a few feet away,
looking on as though he felt little interest in the matter. He did not
help shape the other up, for two reasons. His aid was not necessary, and,
again, he knew it would not be acceptable to his discomfited antagonist.

"A rather neat blow, Zeigler," remarked Tom; "when you wish to even up
matters, I will be