in."

"Vell?" All Hands And Feet queried again. He was very eager for the
fray.

"We have procured a set of two-ounce gloves in anticipation of this
physical culture exhibition," Matt replied. "Unfortunately, however, I
fear your hands will not fit them. Would you care to try them on?"

"Cut it oud! Cut it oud!" the enemy rumbled contemptuously, and again
commenced his advance.

"One minute, then, my friend, until I put on--"

"Fight mit your bare hands like a man!" the big Swede bellowed
scathingly.

"You forget. I told you all fights on my ship are pulled off under my
rules. I always fight with two-ounce gloves."

"All righd. Suit yourself." All Hands And Feet felt he could afford to
give the enemy a trifle the better of the argument without the slightest
prejudice to his own chances for success.

Accordingly, Mr. Murphy skillfully bandaged Matt Peasley's hands, drew
on the gloves and gently shoved his young champion toward the center of
the deck. "Let 'er go!" he announced.

"Come Swede! Present your credentials!" Matt taunted. His long left
flashed out and cuffed All Hands And Feet on the nose.

It was a mere love-tap! All Hands And Feet grinned pityingly, and with
his left arm guarding his face, rushed.

"Lower deck!" Mr. Murphy warned, and laughed as Matt planted left and
right in the midriff and danced away from the Swede's swinging right.
All Hands And Feet grunted--a most unwarriorlike grunt--and dropped both
hands--whereupon a fog suddenly descended upon his vision. Faintly he
made out a blur that was Matt Peasley; bellowing wrathfully he rushed.
Matt gave ground and the Swede's vision cleared and he paused to
consider the situation.

"No rest for the wicked," Mr. Murphy declared. "At him, boy, at him!"

All Hands And Feet realized he faced a desperate situation, and as Matt
stepped in he ducked and leaped upon his antagonist.

"By yiminy," he yelled. "I got you now!" and his great hands closed
around Matt Peasley's neck.

"Lower deck!" Mr. Murphy yelled shrilly, and a volley of short arm
blows commenced to rattle on the big Swede's stomach. For at least seven
seconds Matt worked like a pneumatic riveter; then--

"Swing your partner for the grand right and left," Mr. Murphy counseled,
and Matt closed with All Hands And Feet, and managed to shake the badly
winded champion off.

"All off," Mr. Murphy declared to the American consul and dropped his
marline-spike, as Matt Peasley ripped left