While the discomfited wrestler slouched back beside his father, who acted as if he was ashamed of him, the other son fairly bounded into the arena. He stood grinning, with fists doubled, and manifestly impatient for the sport to begin. To hurry his foe he twisted his face into an insulting grimace. No one knew Victor’s quick temper better than his brother. It was that which caused him his only misgiving. “Victor,” said he, with much earnestness, “if you don’t keep cool and have all your wits about you, you’ll get whipped. He’s stronger than his brother, and you have a harder job before you than I did. Remember—KEEP COOL!” Now, Victor himself was fully aware of his infirmity, but, like many thus afflicted, he often yielded to it. At the very opening of the bout he came within a hair of falling a victim to his own impetuous temper. Neither he nor the Shoshone displayed any of the scientific points which are seen to-day when two professionals face each other in the ring, for they had not had any instruction. You would have said the pose of both was wrong, for, instead of holding the right hand across and in front of the chest for purposes of parrying, while the “leading” was done with the left, they stood with fists thrust out and side by side, but both balanced themselves well on their feet, and were on the watch for an opening. Victor looked straight into the dusky face and felt a thrill of anger when the Shoshone indulged in another tantalizing grimace. Young Elk made several quick feints, and then, with surprising quickness, smote the cheek of Victor with the flat of his hand, and leaped back and grinned at him. The blow set Victor’s blood aflame, and, forgetting caution, he rushed upon the other, only, however, to receive a second blow which almost carried him off his feet. It was directly on the mouth and started the blood. But it undid the mischief of the slap given a moment before. Our young friend suddenly realized that he had no slight task before him, and he heeded the words of his brother, who again called to him to keep cool. He mastered his temper and did a clever thing by pretending to be scared. When Young Elk carefully advanced he retreated, and hurriedly glanced over his shoulder, as if looking for a place of refuge. The Indian was deceived and grew confident. He came forward and drew back his right fist ready to strike, while Victor continued cautiously to give ground. Finally he braced and awaited the attack. The closed hand of the Shoshone shot forward, but the blow was eluded by an instant recoil of the head for an inch or two. Victor felt the wind of the blow on his nose, so close came the fist of his foe. Then with astonishing quickness he concentrated his strength in his good right arm and landed straight and true upon the cheek of the other, who was sent backward and reeled to one knee, but was up again in a flash.