od of passion poured over him and he lost all discretion.
He saw only Peter's shining collar, his fine boots and good clothes, and
above all the smile, half of shame, half of triumph, upon his face. In
passing Peter staggered against Robert, who let drive with his fist, and
there was a fight before anyone really knew what had happened.

"What are ye shovin' at? Can ye no' watch folk's toes?" And he was on
Peter like a whirlwind. There was the hatred of years between them, and
they pummeled each other heartily.

"A fight, boys!" yelled the others. "Here's a fight!" and a crowd
rapidly gathered to watch operations, while little Mysie, who had been
the cause of it all, shrank back into a quiet corner, the tears running
from her eyes and a sore pain at her heart.

"Go on, Bob! Gi'e him a jelly yin," cried Bob's supporters.

"Watch for his nose, Peter," cried those who pinned their faith to the
coal-owner's son. Amid a chorus of such encouragement, both boys
belabored each other and fought like barbarians.

"Let up, Peter," cried Bob's admirers, "an' gi'e him fair doo," as the
two rolled upon the ground, with Peter, who was much the bigger boy, on
top. "Come on now, he let you up when you was doon," and so they kept
the balance of fair play. But the fight raged on in a terrible fury of
battle, sometimes one boy on top, sometimes the other. Bob was the more
active of the two, and hardier, and what he lacked in weight he made up
in speed. One of Peter's eyes was bruised, while Robert's lip was
swelling, and each strained to plant the decisive blow that would end
the fight.

"Nae kickin', Peter! Ye're bate," yelled one watchful supporter of Bob,
as he noticed the former's booted foot come into violent contact with
Bobbie's bare leg.

"Big cowardie!" cried another, as Peter, crying now with rage and
vexation, hit out with his foot. "Fight fair an' nae kickin'!"

Bob managed to dodge the kick, and flinging himself in before Peter
recovered his balance, planted a heavy blow upon his opponent's nose.

"Ho! a jelly yin! a jelly yin!" roared the crowd in admiration. "Gi'e
him anither yin," and even Peter's supporters began to desert him. Bob,
thus encouraged, laid about him with all the strengthened "morale" of a
conscious victor, finding it comparatively easy now to hit hard--and
often. Peter, blinded by tears and choking with passion, could not see,
but struck aimlessly, till one resounding smack upon his already injured