ye.

"Ow-oo!" It was a bellow, mingling surprise with rage and pain.
Involuntarily, the longshoreman fell back a pace, and lifted a hand to
his face. As he did so, with another down-jerk of the chin, and another
leap, once more the scoutmaster rammed him--upon the left eye. And
followed this up with a lightning stroke on that big, twisted nose.

At this, Big Tom made a rush. So far, the fight was not of the kind he
had waged with One-Eye--a rough-and-tumble affair in which brute
strength and weight counted in his favor. But pounds, combined with lack
of training, slowness, and awkwardness, put him at a sad disadvantage
when facing this smaller, lighter man who had speed, and science, and
was accustomed to bouts. Since Barber could not change his own method of
fighting, he understood that he must change the tactics of his
adversary; must grab the scoutmaster, bear him to the floor, and beat
him. This he determined to do. Wildly he churned the air with those
knuckles of steel.

"If I git my hands on y'," he stormed, "I'll tear y' in _two_!" The
taste of his own blood was in his mouth now, for a warm stream of it was
spreading from his nostrils to his lips and chin.

"You won't get your hands on me," promised Mr. Perkins. He dodged nimbly
from side to side as the longshoreman came on, and kept just beyond the
latter's grasp. Watching his chance, he darted in and landed a fourth
blow--under an eye; then got away again, carefully preserving himself
against being struck while doing the greatest amount of damage possible
to the enemy.

All the time he watched to see that he was not cornered. A moment, and
the junction of two walls came over close to his back; so under one of
those flesh-and-blood flails he slipped; and, coming up behind Big Tom,
struck the latter a whanging blow on an ear. "You're going to spank me,
are you?" he taunted. "Well, come on and do it! Come on!"

More maddened than ever, and swearing horribly, the longshoreman whirled
and started a second pursuit. He blew the blood from his lips, the
better to breathe, spattering the scarlet countenance of Mr. Perkins
with scores of dots which were a deeper red. And as he blew, he cut the
air with his arms, hitting nothing.

"Why don't y' stand up and fight!" he raged. "Stop that jumpin' 'round!"

"Oh, you want to wrestle, don't you!" mocked Mr. Perkins. "But this time
you've got to box!"

"Y' won't git ev'rything y'r own way!" vowed Big Tom, panting curse