Jasper's brows stood out like
bristles, and the eyes under them were red and fierce like a mad bull's.
Again Rome's blows fell, but again the Lewallen reached him, and this
time he got his face under the Stetson's chin,--'id the heavy fist fell
upon the back of his head, and upon his neck, as upon wood and leather.
Again Rome had to gasp for breath, and again the two were fiercely
locked-their corded arms as tense as serpents. Around and around they
whirled, straining, tripping, breaking the silence only with deep, quick
breaths and the stamping of feet, Jasper firm on the rock, and Rome's
agility saving him from being lifted in the air and tossed from the
cliff. There was no pause for rest. It was a struggle to the end, and
a quick one; and under stress of excitement the figure at the pine-tree
had risen to his knees--jumping even to his feet in plain view, when
the short, strong arms of the Lewallen began at last to draw Rome closer
still, and to bend him backward. The Stetson was giving way at last.
The Lewallen's vindictive face grew blacker, and his white teeth showed
between his snarling lips as he fastened one leg behind his enemy's,
and, with chin against his shoulder, bent him slowly, slowly back. The
two breathed in short, painful gasps; their swollen muscles trembled
under the strain as with ague. Back--back--the Stetson was falling;
he seemed almost down, when--the trick is an old one-whirling with the
quickness of light, he fell heavily on his opponent, and caught him by
the throat with both hands.

"'Nough?" he asked, hoarsely. It was the first word uttered.

The only answer was a fierce struggle. Rome felt the Lewallen's teeth
sinking in his arm, and his fingers tightened like twisting steel, till
Jasper caught his breath as though strangling to death.

"'Nough?" asked the hoarse voice again.

No answer; tighter clinched the fingers. The Lewallen shook his head
feebly; his purple face paled suddenly as Rome loosed his hold, and his
lips moved in a whisper.

"'Nough!"

Rome rose dizzily to one knee. Jasper turned, gasping, and lay with his
face to the rock. For a while both were quiet, Rome, panting with
open mouth and white with exhaustion, looking down now and then at the
Lewallen, whose face was turned away with shame.

The sun was blazing above Wolf's Head now, and the stillness about them
lay unbroken on the woods below.

"I've whooped ye, Jas," Rome said, at last; "I've whooped ye in a fa'r