The two were nearly evenly matched, a slight superiority in wrestling
attaching to the white man, who, after a furious struggle of a minute or
so, flung his antagonist as flat as could be, upon his back. He struck
like an India-rubber ball, and, before Tom could fasten him down, so as
to hold him, bounded up again and renewed his fight without a second's
hesitation.
"The devil take you!" growled the maddened hunter, as he let drive a
sledgehammer-like blow straight from the shoulder.
It encountered the chief fairly upon the forehead, with a force
apparently sufficient to crush his skull, but it only sent him reeling
back several paces, when his sinewy activity saved him from falling.
With the same unhesitating promptness he charged as before.
"If that skull ain't more than six inches thick, it'll go this time,"
muttered Tom, as he gathered all his strength and sent out his fist like
the thrust of a piston rod.
But Lone Wolf was expecting it and a quick flirt of the head to one side
let the mallet go harmlessly by, while the impetus of his own blow threw
Hardynge forward several steps, and narrowly escaped carrying him off
his feet altogether. With an exasperating taunt the chief landed a blow
upon the face of his antagonist as he shot by, and, catching him about
the shoulder before he could recover, flung him to the ground with great
violence, falling heavily upon him.
Had the knife of the Apache been in his hand at this juncture he would
have ended the struggle in short order; but he was without the means of
improving his advantage, and before he knew it he was turned from the
chest of the prostrate man. And this critical moment, when the issue of
the contest was very doubtful, a second figure came out from the rocks,
and approached the combatants. It was that of Dick Morris, who coolly
asked:
"Sha'n't I knock him on the head, Tom, and end this little row?"
"No," fairly shouted the enraged hunter, as they hammered away at each
other. "If you do it, I'll knock you on the head. This is a fair and
square fight in which the best man wins. If I can't knock thunder and
lightning out of this redskin, let him knock it out of me. Stand back!"
"All right," replied Dick, very contentedly, walking to where the
enthralled Ned Chadmund stood and asking him whether he wished to stake
a little wager on the result.
The appearance of this third party ended the contest in a manner neither
of the whites anticipated. T
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