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Then, later, dawned the day when from this comfortable high estate a common adder, preserved in spirits of wine, was the cause of his downfall and Bully Harberth the means of his reinstatement.... One afternoon Mr. Steynker, the Science Master, for some reason and without preliminary mention of his intent, produced a bottled specimen of a snake.
The winner is Heavy-Weight Champion of Hindia, winner of the Motipur Cup and 'older of the Elliott Belt. All ready there?" Both combatants were ready. "Come here, both of you," said the referee. As he arose to obey, Dam was irresistibly reminded of his fight with Bully Harberth and smiled. "Nervous sort o' grin on the figger-'ead o' the smaller wessel, don't it," observed Seaman Smith.
The infamy of the Coward spread abroad, was talked of in other Houses, and fellows made special excursions to see the cry-baby, who funked a dead snake, a blooming bottled, potted, dead snake, and who had blubbed aloud in his terror. "That's him, Harberth, by the window, reading a penny blood," said the Haddock, and went and stood afar off to see the fun.
"It is called 'grippers'. You'll begin to enjoy it in a minute." ... In a few seconds the pain became acute and after a couple of minutes, excruciating. Dam kept absolutely still and perfectly silent. To Harberth this was disappointing and after a time he grew tired. Releasing his impassive victim he arose preparatory to introducing the next item of his programme of tortures.
"I don't fight cowards," mumbled Harberth, holding his jaw and, at this meanness, Dam was moved to go up to Harberth and slap him right hard upon his plump, inviting cheek, a good resounding blow that made his hand tingle with pain and his heart with pleasure. He still identified him somehow with the Snake, and had a glorious, if passing, sensation of successful revolt and some revenge.
"Seconds out of the ring. Time!" called the time-keeper and Delorme ceased fanning with the towel, splashed a spongeful of water in Dam's face and backed away with his stool. Harberth seemed determined to make an end. He rushed at his opponent whirling his arms, breathing stertorously, and scowling savagely.
"Why, Funky that is to say, Warren knocked you out, and you've got to give him best and ask for pax, or else fight him," said Delorme, adding hopefully, "but of course you'll fight him." Harberth arose and walked to the nearest seat. "He hit me a 'coward's poke' when I wasn't looking," quoth he. "It's well known he is a coward." "You are a liar, Bully Harberth," observed Delorme.
Had Dam struck the blow a second sooner, the fight would have been over and he would have won. As it was, Harberth had the whole interval in which to recover. Dam's own luck! Fighting the Snake was the real joy, and victory would end it. So would defeat and he must not get cock-a-hoop and careless. Delorme filled his mouth with water and ejected it in a fine spray over Dam's head and chest.
The positive joy of fighting It in the glorious day and open air, instead of in the Bottomless Pit bound, stifled, mad with Fear none could realize.... Bully Harberth entered the ring accompanied by Shanner, who looked like a Sixth Form boy and was in the Shell. Harberth wore a thick sweater and looked very strong and heavy.
But, as the knowing Coxe Major observed, what there was of Dam was in the right place and was muscle. Certainly he was finely made. "Seconds out of the ring. Time!" called the time-keeper and Dam sprang to his feet and ran at Harberth who swung a mighty round-arm blow at his face as Dam ducked and smote him hard and true just below the breast-bone and fairly on the "mark ".
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