not but prove greater than his. In a boxing match his lithe
quickness might win--provided he had the skill to direct it. But in a
genuine fight, within the circumscribed and hampering dimensions of our
little room, I thought my own rather unusual power must crush him. The
only unknown quantity was the spirit or gameness of us two. I had no
great doubt of my own determination in that respect--I had been on too
many log-drives to fear personal encounter. And certainly Talbot Ward
seemed to show nothing but eager interest.

"You don't show up for what you are in your clothes," said he. "This is
going to be more fun than I had thought."

My roommates perched on the table and the mantelpiece out of the way. I
asked the length of the rounds.

"Rounds!" echoed Talbot Ward with a flash of teeth beneath his little
moustache. "Did you ever hear of rounds in a real fight?"

With the words he sprang forward and hit me twice. The blows started at
the very toe of his foot; and they shook me as no blows, even with the
bare fist, have ever shaken me before or since. Completely dazed, I
struck back, but encountered only the empty air. Four or five times,
from somewhere, these pile-driver fists descended upon me. Being now
prepared, to some extent, I raised my elbows and managed to defend my
neck and jaws. The attack was immediately transferred to my body, but I
stiffened my muscles thankfully and took the punishment. My river and
farm work had so hardened me there that I believe I could have taken the
kick of a mule without damage were I expecting it.

The respite enabled my brain to clear. I recovered slowly from the
effect of those first two vicious blows. I saw Ward, his eyes narrowed
calculatingly, his body swinging forward like a whalebone spring,
delivering his attack with nice accuracy. A slow anger glowed through
me. He had begun without the least warning: had caught me absolutely
unaware. I hit back.

He was so intent on his own assault, so certain of the blinding effect
of his first attack, that I hit him. I saw his head snap back, and the
blood come from his lips. The blows were weak, for I was still dazed;
but they served, together with the slow burn of my anger, greatly to
steady me. We were once more on equal terms.

For perhaps two minutes I tried to exchange with him. He was in and out
like lightning; he landed on me hard almost every time; he escaped nine
out of ten of my return counters. Decidedly I was getting