The fight now became as dogged as it was furious. Each man had tried to end it with a single and, failing, knew that he must wear his opponent down. Neither had been seriously damaged by the blows struck and neither was in the least tired. The thud of blow followed blow. Back and forth the pair shuffled, first one driving the other with volleys of punches, then his antagonist suddenly turning the tables. Toppy, feeling that he was fighting an uphill fight, saved himself more than Reivers. The latter, who felt himself the master, became more and more enraged as Toppy continued to stand up before him and give him back as good as he gave. Each time that Toppy reached face or body with a solid blow the savage fury flared in Reivers’ eyes, and he lunged forward like a maddened bull. Always, however, he recovered himself and resumed the fight with brains as well as brawn. Toppy never lost his head after the first wild spasm. He realised that they were so evenly matched that the loser would lose by a slip of the mind by letting some weak spot in his character master him; and he held himself in with an iron will. Reivers’ blows goaded and tempted him to rush in madly, but he held back. The men about the ring thought he was losing, and their voices rose in growled encouragement. Toppy was not losing. As he saw Reivers become more and more furious his hopes began to rise. At each opportunity he reached Reivers’ face, cutting open his other eye, bringing the blood from his nose, stinging him into added furies. Toppy was knocked down several times in the rushes that invariably followed such blows, but each time he recovered himself before Reivers could rush upon him. Suddenly his fighting-instinct telegraphed him that Reivers was about to try something new. He drew back a little, Reivers following closely. Suddenly it came. Without warning Reivers kicked. The blow took Toppy in the groin and he stumbled backward from its force. A cry of rage went up from the watching men. But Toppy sprung erect in an instant. “All right!” he called. “It didn’t hurt me. Shut up, you fools.” Thanks to his training, his hard muscles had turned the kick and saved him from being disabled. “What’s the matter, Reivers?” he taunted as he circled carefully. “Losing confidence in your fists? Got to use your feet, eh? Lost your kick, too, haven’t you? Well, well! Then you certainly are in for a fine trimming!” Again Reivers kicked, this time aiming low at the shin-bone; but Toppy avoided it easily and danced back with a laugh. “Can’t even land it any more!” Treplin chuckled. “Show us some more tricks, Reivers!”