"I'll tell you what I'll do, Ike," spoke Harry. "We'll be fair. I'll wrestle you for that $100. If you throw me, you can have it, and if I throw you we can keep it. You've already got more than that out of this ground--but we want to be fair." "Don't you do it, Harry!" protested Father Richards. "There's no need of such foolishness." "That's what I say," added Mr. Stanton. "We won't allow it." "I know what I'm about," replied Harry, with a wink at Terry and George and the breathless Archie. "Young feller," solemnly said Ike, "I ekcept, ketch as ketch can, but keep back your dog. I air a tough proposition in a wrestle, but I don't aim to come to grips with man and dog at the same time." Harry alertly threw aside his hat and stepped forward; Ike did the like. "David an' Goliath!" cheered the crowd; and indeed the match did resemble that, with Harry so slight and slim and the shaggy Ike appearing to be a foot taller and a foot broader. "Has he any show? Do you think he _can_ throw him?" whispered Archie--referring, of course, to Harry. "Sure he can," asserted Terry. "Can't he, George?" "He usually does what he sets out to do," agreed George. Now, arms half out-stretched and shoulders forward, Harry and Ike were circling each other, in watchful, eager fashion. Ike rushed--"Look out, Harry!"--but Harry dodged. Ike rushed again; this time, quick as light, Harry darted to meet him, and they were locked--locked with arms and legs, while they tugged and swayed and Ike grunted, and their boots crunched upon the rocks and gravel. "Harry's got the under hold!" gasped Terry. "Yes, but Ike'll break him in two!" gasped George. Virgie was crying and calling, Shep was barking, the spectators were shouting all sorts of advice. And swallowed in Ike's great arms, Harry seemed quite helpless, simply clinging to Ike's waist, with his face pressed against Ike's shirt, and letting Ike dash him hither-thither, trying to upset him. But somehow, Harry always landed on his feet. Once he was lifted clear in air--only to come down again with a thump. Twice he was lifted--this time actually by the seat of the trousers! Ike tried to pull him in and bend him backwards, but Harry stiffened and bowed his back. Then suddenly he did come in--but lightning fast, he side-stepped a little, thrust himself part way past Ike, stopped farther, and, shifting his grip to Ike's thighs, tilted and heaved. Up rose Ike, pawing and kicking--up, a foot off the ground, and over Harry he shot, almost horizontal, like a diver from a spring-board, to plough the ground beyond with his shoulder. "Ah!" "Ah!" "That war a trick!" scolded Ike, sitting up and rubbing his tousled head. "All right," answered Harry, panting and laughing. "We'll make it two falls out of three, then. I've a couple more tricks."