"Not a bit of it," said Harry. "He kicked you on the ground. Didn’t you know? It was foul play. What was it all about?" "I didn’t kick him," muttered Stoneway. "That’s a lie. I saw you do it," said Kenneth. "What’s the row, Ginger?" "Well, what you may call a bit of a shindy," Ginger replied. "Just between ourselves, like. I’m ready for another go." "No. Come, out with it, man." "Well, I was traipsing along with that there basket on my head when up he comes and starts rounding on me for chipping him. ’I’m not having any truck with grousers,’ says I. Then we had a few words, and he got me one afore I was ready, that I own. But I can’t hardly believe he kicked me when I was down, and a bit dazed like." "He did. You take a rest and recover: we’ll settle with him." "What are you talking about?" Stoneway blustered. "Giving you a hiding. Off with your coat," said Kenneth. "You’ll see fair play, Harry." "I say, this is my job," said Harry. "You’ve been on the sick list." "I’m all right." "No, really." "Well, don’t let’s waste time. I’ll toss you for it." And while Stoneway looked on in amazement, Kenneth spun a coin, won, stripped off his tunic and rolled up his shirt sleeves. "Two to one against the big ’un," cried Ginger, with a grin of delight. Seeing there was no help for it, Stoneway slowly took off his tunic. "And mind you fight fair," Harry warned him, "or I promise you I’ll take a hand myself." The two men faced each other. They presented a striking contrast. Stoneway was slightly the taller and much the heavier; his big chest bulged under his shirt, and his biceps were thick. But Harry, scanning him keenly, noting his fleshiness, decided that his muscles were rather flabby than hard; and observing Kenneth’s slighter but well-knit frame, and remembering his promise as a boxer at school, felt pretty confident of the result. After the first few exchanges he was more doubtful. Stoneway had a longer reach, and was clearly accustomed to the use of his fists. At the start he forced the fighting, trying to get a knock-out blow, and Kenneth needed all his skill to meet his bull-like rushes and sledge-hammer strokes. He managed to land one punishing body-blow that would have shaken up a smaller man, but Stoneway recovered himself quickly, and the first round ended with little damage on either side except that Stoneway found himself somewhat winded. The combatants had now taken each other’s measure. In the second round Kenneth in his turn adopted forcing tactics, bewildering his opponent by the whirlwind rapidity of his attack and his elusiveness in defence. Stoneway began to realise that he had met more than his match. He breathed heavily; his fat cheeks took on a yellowish tinge; and the end of the round found him with a bigger nose and a bump over his right eye, and greatly distressed in wind. "Next round finishes him," whispered Harry, as he wiped Kenneth’s face.