“By Jove, the boy is going to stand up to him!” he said delightedly. “I hope he’ll keep his head and do some foot work now.” The hope was realised. With a rush Asa sought to grapple with his opponent. Paul easily avoided and before Asa could recover had landed one, two, three upon his enemy’s unprotected face. The Colonel hugged himself in joy. “Gad, the boy’s showing form,” he chuckled in high glee. Once more Asa rushed, but again Paul eluded him, circling round his man. “Aw, come on, you coward!” cried Asa. “You dassen’t stand up to me.” “Keep away, Paul,” cried Peg, dancing excitedly in the offing. “He’d better!” shouted Asa, rushing after his elusive foe. “But I’ll get you all right.” But even as he spoke Paul suddenly checked himself and landed heavily with a stiff swing upon Asa’s ear as he passed, with telling effect. For a moment or two Asa lay where he had fallen, more astonished than hurt, while Peg shrieked with joy. “Good foot work, Paul!” Not for nothing had she attended the boy’s fighting exercises with the Colonel for the last two years. With greater deliberation the bigger boy set out to secure a clinch with his exasperating opponent. “Jove, if he can only keep away!” murmured the Colonel. Out and in, back and forward, Asa sought to corner his victim, coming often within touch but just failing to make his catch. The pace was beginning to tell upon Asa, for he was quite unused to this sort of game and his wind was going. “Now, boy, go in! Go in! Why don’t you go——” the Colonel whispered in a frenzy of excitement behind the bush. As if in obedience to the whispered entreaty Paul met a sudden reckless rush of the other with a full straight arm fair upon the chin, lifted him clear off his feet and landed him two yards away on his back, where he lay stretched at full length. A shriek of delight from Peg greeted the result. “What a little devil she is!” said the delighted Colonel to himself. “Jove, what a hit, a clean hit! The boy’s a wonder! Here, here, look out!” The Colonel’s anxiety was well founded. For Paul, dismayed at the unexpected effect of his blow, had approached his enemy with the idea of proffering aid. Slowly Asa recovered himself, raised himself to a sitting position and sat heaving deep sobs, with his head in his hands. “I’m sorry, Asa,” said Paul penitently. “I didn’t mean to hit so hard.” But there was no response. Asa continued to sob heavily, still with his head in his hands. “I’m awfully sorry,” repeated Paul, drawing nearer. “I didn’t mean to——” His compassion for his fallen foe never found full expression. With a sidelong lurch Asa flung himself at Paul’s feet, gripped and hurled him to the ground; then, clambering upon him, held him fast by the throat. “Now, I’ve got yeh,” he panted, “and I’m going to punch the daylights out o’ yeh.” And straightway he began pounding his prostrate foe about the head.