“I will. I’m glad of this. I’ve felt an awful brute lately; but you’ll make me feel better in a minute. I’ve been telling Jane that she’s making a big mistake to marry you. It’s my honest opinion, and I ought to have told you.” “Honest! Wonder the word doan’t choke you, you gert, hulking, lazy clown! Behind a man’s back to do it! Thief that you be.” “Not at all. I’ve never hidden from Jane—” “Shut your mouth, you hookem-snivey fox, or I’ll hammer your white teeth down your throat! Stand up to me, now this instant moment, an’ us’ll see who’s the best man. ’Tis time this here woman knowed, an’ I’ll show her the straw you’m made of, for all your size.” He flung down his gun and his coat, then turned up his sleeves and waited. “We can’t fight before a girl—impossible,” said Anthony. “Doan’t she want us to? Ban’t she hungry to see us do it? Ban’t she a female, like the rest of ’em? Come on, or I’ll beat you like a dog.” “What’s the good of making an exhibition of yourself, Richard? I was ‘runner-up’ in the amateur heavy-weights two years running. I can smother you, but I don’t want to.” “Doan’t blow so loud afore you see what ’tis to fight a chap in the right,” cried Richard, with passion. So we shift our standpoint at the beck of chance, and call virtue to our aid when accidentally enrolled under her banner. He stood where he had lied to his little brother and trampled Davey’s fish into the ground and laughed at the child’s rage. “You’d better go,” said Maybridge to Jane. “I’m awfully sorry about this, but—” He was cut short, for the other rushed in and struck him a heavy blow on the side of the face. Anthony shook his head and snorted. “If you will have it, you shall,” he said; “but I’m sorry, because you’re right and I’m in the wrong—more or less.” Jane fled at the first blow, and the battle began. Maybridge quickly proved the looseness of his great limbs was combined with other gifts proper to a boxer. He smarted doubly; from the other’s insults and from the sense that they were deserved. He had ill-used Richard, and his dislike for him, once loosened, was proportionately bitter. Stung thus, the young man let his strength and skill have vent. He took and gave some punishment, but he was a disciplined fighter, and very easily kept out the heavy rushes of the keeper. Then, at the first opportunity which Richard offered, Maybridge knocked him squarely off his legs with a tremendous blow over the heart. He rose slowly, but the edge of his strength was gone. His anger nearly blinded him before this reverse, while Anthony, on the other hand, had fought himself into a good humour. Presently at close quarters he hit rather low, and Dick cursed him. “Fight fair, you devil!” he gasped. “Fair enough,” puffed the other. “Well up on your small ribs you’ll see the mark in the morning.”