With that he charged. Jim side-stepped. Again Mark charged and again Jim avoided him lightly. Mark leaped again, and this time Jim stood his ground, and Mark ran his poor face violently against a fending left fist that felt like a bagful of stones. Ducat staggered dizzily backward. His face streamed with blood. "You are beaten," said Jim. For reply, Mark lowered his head and butted like a ram. Jim swung low to the jaw as he stepped aside. Jim picked Mark Ducat up from the mossy track and carried him to the brook, and there he and Flora Ducat bathed the cuts and bruises. "I tried not to mess him up any more than I could help," he said to the girl. "There was no need, after landing that one behind his ear. I didn't touch his eyes, you see." As if in response to that statement, Mark opened his eyes. "Jim, that's the first lickin' I ever got since my old man quit larrupin' me," he said. "If I hadn't seen you do it, I wouldn't believe it; an' if I hadn't seen _how_ ye done it I'd say ye done it with an ax." "It was just a matter of knowing how," replied Jim modestly. "I boxed seven years on end at school. Fact is, I pulled down the Middleweight Interschool Cup last year. It's about the only thing I do well." "Say, I wish I'd 'tended the same school ye did!" "If you had, we'd still be hammering away at each other, battling through twenty rounds to a draw!" "Sure, Jim, yer word's good enough fer me on that subject; an' now I reckon ye're free to visit these parts as often as ye choose to, for all of me." "Of course. On general principles I always protest against any unreasonable and unwarranted attempt to restrict my movements." "You sure protested! Well, let's be gettin' home. Gimme a hand up, Jim, for I'm still feelin' like as if a brow of logs had went over the back of my neck." Mark Ducat moved slowly, with Jim supporting him on one side and the green-eyed girl on the other. His knees wobbled and his feet wavered. "Licked by a greenhorn Yankee dood!" he exclaimed, grinning painfully. "Say, Flora, what'll the folks think of it? What'll pa say?" "He'll say it was coming to you," answered Flora. "He'll say, 'I told you so.'" "Sure he will, an' that _he_ was never licked in his life; an' Uncle Sam'll tell how he was never bested at fightin' nor wrastlin' but by a Ducat or a McKim; an' Gran'pa Ducat'll tell about the time he hove Black Dave Davidson clean over the smoke house, an' Gran'pa McKim'll say as how Jim here must be a Highlander. They'll all have plenty to say, anyhow." "And I'll say this, Mark--you're a sportsman!" said Jim. CHAPTER VI GAMES--ABOVEBOARD AND OTHERWISE