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Hancock, H. Irving (Harrie Irving), 1868-1922

"Or, Seeking Fortune on the Turn of a Pick"


"I can fight harder if you want me to," Tom retorted, as the other
again got to his feet. "Now, put your hands up, and I'll show you."
Tom went at it hammer and tongs. He was a splendidly built young
athlete, and boxing was one of his strong points, though he rarely
allowed himself to get into a fight. Indeed, his usually abounding
good nature made all fighting disagreeable to him. Now, however,
he drove in as though Dolph Gage were a punching-bag.
"Stand up, man, and fight as though you had some sand in you!" Tom
ordered. "Get up steam, and defend yourself."
"I have had enough," Gage gasped. Indeed, his face looked as
though he had.
"Are you a baby?" Reade demanded contemptuously. "Can't you fight
with anything but your tongue!"
"You wait and I'll show you," snarled the badly battered man.
"What's the need of waiting?" Tom jeered, and swung in another blow
that sent Gage to the ground.
"Eh! Josh!" bellowed Gage, with all the breath he had left.
"Hustle o-o-o-over here!"
"Let 'em come!" vaunted Reade.


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