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On the instant Ellinwood jumped in to meet him. There was a swift

flying of arms, a pounding of the great fists, and Pete suddenly

shot back from the melee and landed on his back in the dirt. One

of the Frenchman's great swings had landed. But he was up in an

instant and went after his opponent again.

Jean saw now that he had another man to deal with--unlike a

Frenchman, an Anglo-Saxon cannot fight without sufficient

provocation. Now all the battle was aroused in Ellinwood, for

aside from the shame of his downfall, the crowd was yelling at

the top of its voice. Jean began to run away, circling round and

round the ring of spectators, Pete after him.

Suddenly he made a stand, but the mate was ready for him. Dodging

the straight left, Pete hurled himself forward and seized the

burly Frenchman in his arms. Then, with a tug and a wrench, as

though he were uprooting a tree, he lifted his opponent and

crashed him down to the earth.