ration of passion. They
were calculated and full of purpose. It was devilish purpose driving
towards the objects of the fight. The stirring fingers yearned to reach
the eyes of the adversary to blind him, and leave his organs of vision
gouged from their sockets. The bared, strong teeth were only awaiting
that dire chance to close upon the enemy's flesh, whether ear, or nose,
or throat. Then the knee and foot. They were striving under ardent will
for that inhuman maiming which would leave the victim crippled for life.

Each movement of the fighters was estimated by the onlookers at its due
worth. They understood it all, the skill, the chance of it. Not one of
them but had fought just such a battle in his time, and not a few
carried the scars of it, and would continue to carry the scars of it for
the rest of their days.

The moments of quiescence yielded to a spasmodic violence. There was a
wild rolling, and the unlocking of mighty, clinging legs. One
dishevelled head was raised threateningly. It remained poised for a
fraction of time over the upturned face of the man lying in a position
of disadvantage. Then it lunged downwards. And as it descended, a sound
like the clipping of teeth came back to the taut strung senses of the
onlookers. A sigh escaped from a hundred throats.

"Bull missed it that time."

Abe Kristin whispered his comment. The two men beside him had nothing to
add at the moment. Their eyes were intent for the next development.

Suddenly the fair-haired giant who had missed his attack seemed to
disengage himself from the under man's desperate hold. It was impossible
to ascertain the means he employed. But he clearly released himself and
one hammer fist swung up. It crashed sickeningly down on the upturned
face, and a whistling breath escaped the emotional Abe.

"Gee! He's takin' a chance! That ain't the play in a 'rough and tough,'"
he muttered.

"Nope. You're right, Abe," Luke Gats agreed without turning. "He's
crazy. Gee! It's a chance. But he's maybe rattled. Bull's been fightin'
over an hour."

"Here get it!" Tug Burke was pointing with a cant-hook in his
excitement. "Get it quick. See? He's--"

The man's excitement found reflection in the whole concourse of
onlookers. There was a furious movement in the human body crushed on the
ground beneath the man they called Bull. Its knees came up under his
adversary's body with a terrific jolt. The purpose of maiming was
obvious.

"Gee! I'm glad."