ck, heaving with all his might.

Russell, shifting at the last second from a clutch, seeing Mormon
charging, swung a vicious uppercut. He made the mistake of
underestimating Mormon, thinking him slow-witted. He found his wrist in
a vise, his arm twisted, bent down across the thick ridge of the
cowman's shoulder, the powerful heave of Mormon's back. His own impetus
served against him. Mormon shifted grips, he cupped Russell's elbow with
his right palm and crowded all his energy into one dynamic effort of
pull and hoist. Russell went over his head in a Flying Mare as the crowd
stood up and yelled.

Surprised off his feet, Russell's experience served him in good stead as
they left the ground. Mormon's trick had scored, but it was an old one
and had its counter-move. As he landed, legs flexed, he twisted, grabbed
Mormon's arm with his free one and jerked him forward, hunching a
shoulder under the cowman's stomach. The pair of them rolled together on
the ground, struggling and clubbing, while the spectators shouted
themselves hoarse and smote each other great blows. Pardee, stepping
warily, watched the writhing pair.

Russell, wiser at this game, contrived leverage, twisting Mormon, and
pinned his arms in a scissors grip while he battered at his face and
Mormon writhed to get away from the reach of those long arms. The soft
dust clouded about them and their grunts came out from it as they
struggled. Once, with Mormon striving to open the leg grip, jerking away
from the flailing blows, they rolled perilously near a clump of prickly
pear on the verge of their little arena and a universal cry of warning
went up.

The two heard nothing of it in their hammer and tongs affair, the
superheated blood, stoked by passion, surging through their veins.

Mormon felt the pressure of Russell's thigh-muscles closing
relentlessly, clamping down on his chest, shutting off oxygen. His
energy waned, his limbs grew heavy, nerveless, his brain clogged and
dulled. He set his chin well down into his neck to save his jaw, but his
right cheek was pounded, one eye closing. It was only a matter of
moments before he must relax and then Russell would pin him down with
one arm and send in the final smashing blow. He felt himself
suffocating, sinking--the noise of roaring waters dinned in his ears.

He lay on his back, Russell on his side, one leg below, one leg above
Mormon's body, bending at the hips in his efforts to reach the cowman's
jaw. He be