This time Marcus was more careful. Twice, as McTeague rushed at him, he
slipped cleverly away. But as the dentist came in a third time, with his
head bowed, Marcus, raising himself to his full height, caught him with
both arms around the neck. The dentist gripped at him and rent away the
sleeve of his shirt. There was a great laugh.
"Keep your shirt on," cried Mrs. Ryer.
The two men were grappling at each other wildly. The party could hear
them panting and grunting as they labored and struggled. Their boots
tore up great clods of turf. Suddenly they came to the ground with a
tremendous shock. But even as they were in the act of falling, Marcus,
like a very eel, writhed in the dentist's clasp and fell upon his side.
McTeague crashed down upon him like the collapse of a felled ox.
"Now, you gotta turn him on his back," shouted Heise to the dentist. "He
ain't down if you don't."
With his huge salient chin digging into Marcus's shoulder, the dentist
heaved and tugged. His face was flaming, his huge shock of yellow hair
fell over his forehead, matted with sweat. Marcus began to yield despite
his frantic efforts. One shoulder was down, now the other began to go;
gradually, gradually it was forced over.
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