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Updated: May 31, 2025
During the minute of time Monroe and Spatola rubbed Jerry vigorously and when the gong clanged, though still breathing hard, Jerry was ready for Clancy's rush. He had been prepared for this by Flynn, who knew the fighter's methods. For before the seconds were well out of the ring Clancy had crossed toward Jerry's corner, planning by sheer bulk and viciousness to sap some of Jerry's strength.
"This time I claim the right to name the weapons, and they will be bare fists." "Right! right!" cried several voices. "You'll have to fight him that way, Diamond." "I will fight him!" grated Jack, furiously. "It is the prize fighter's way, but I'll fight him, and I will lick him!" He tore off his coat and flung it down. The boys quickly formed a ring, and the freshmen foes faced each other.
But those who knew that Bill had the true fighter's scorn for any purely purposeless conflict were more or less concerned and watchful of him. He would drive steadily for four or five minutes with thoughtfully knitted brows, but eyes still keenly observant under his slouched hat, and then, relaxing his strained attitude, would give way to a movement of impatience.
She had dragged a heavy metal bar out to the fray and was trying to get some fighter's attention and give it to him. I seized the formidable weapon and jumped at the nearest Quabo, a ten-foot giant whose eyes were glinting gigantically at me through the distorting curve of the glass. Disregarding the clutching tentacles entirely, I swung the bar against the helmet. It cracked.
Cynewulf calls the angel who stood by Constantine in his vision a "weaver of peace"; but the peace was to be woven after conflict, and the wearer of the victor's palm had first to wield the fighter's sword. When Constantine had learned about the Cross from the few Christians he could find, he believed and was baptized, says the poet.
And it was fitting, moreover, that they should fight alone and unwitnessed, armed only with the weapons of the wilderness, for they were both of the far, free lands, were both of the fighter's type, and had both warred for the first, great prize. They met ferociously.
Off the horse he seemed even bigger and more capable than before, and now that he had come sufficiently close, so that the shadow from his sombrero's brim did not partially mask the upper part of his face, it seemed to Sinclair that about the eyes he was not nearly so prepossessing as around the clean-cut fighter's mouth and chin.
Tears gleamed on the stern fighter's cheeks, there in the ghostly blue firelight tears that washed little courses through the dust and sand now griming his face. The French airman, hard in battle and with heart of steel and flame, was crying like a child. "What now? Who is it?" shouted the Master. "A European?" "Yes, my Captain! A Frenchman!" "A Frenchman. You don't mean to say it is " "Yes, yes!
They dress like the Russians, or very nearly so, the most distinguishing feature being a sort of skull cap like that worn by the Chinese. Their hair is cut like a prize fighter's, excepting a little tuft on the crown. Out of doors they wore the Russian cap over their Mohammedan one unconsciously symbolizing their subjection to Muscovite rule.
"If it be my brother that charioteers sure am I that it is Cuculain who is in the fighter's seat, for many a time have I heard Laeg utter foul scorn of the Red Branch, none excepted, when compared with Sualtam's son. For no other than him would he deign to charioteer. Truly though he is my own brother there is not such a boaster in the North." Then the watchman cried out again
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