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Updated: May 14, 2025
"You're not shot at all, captain," interposed Payne. "You looked so wicked with that knife, I just happened to tap you in a vital spot, that's all." "Wal I ain't shot, sure 'nough!" exclaimed the relieved captain after inspecting his mid-section. "What'd he hit me with, boys?" Roger held up his hard brown fist. "Sorry to do it, friend, but a man with a knife makes me see red."
Six-limbed creatures they were, of a purplish-red color, with huge, tricornigerous heads and with staring, green, phosphorescent eyes. Two of the six limbs were always legs, two always arms; the intermediate two, due to a mid-section jointing of the six-foot-long, almost cylindrical body, could be used at will as either legs or arms.
A left, a right and a left pounded into Tom's mid-section, and as he gave way momentarily Tom's face clouded over. They circled. Tom kept leading with sharp lefts that popped in and out like a piston, always connecting and keeping Roger off balance. Roger concentrated on penetrating Tom's defense, methodically pounding his ribs and heart and trying to wear him down. "Time!" bawled Astro.
"Start breaking, Loring," he said quietly. "Why, you " snarled Loring and rushed in. He swung wildly for Roger's head, but the cadet slipped inside the punch and drove a hard right to Loring's mid-section. The prisoner doubled over, staggered back, and slowly straightened up. Roger's lips were drawn tightly in a grimace of cold anger. His eyes were shining hard and bright.
The store owner was still lying motionless on his stretcher. Claire was fiddling with a telecast receiving set; she had just tuned out a lecture on Home Beautifications and had gotten the mid-section of a serial in which three couples were somewhat confused over just who was married to whom. "Nobody seems to realize what's happening to us!" she said, turning the knob again.
The three weeks of hard physical training had conditioned the boys perfectly. At the end of the twelfth round, both boys showed many signs of wear. Roger's cheeks were as red as the glow of a jet blast deflector from the hundreds of lefts Tom had pumped into his face, while Tom's ribs and mid-section were bruised and raw where Roger's punches had landed successfully.
Roger punched Astro in the mid-section. "If you were as smart as he is, you big grease monkey, you'd be O.K." "Nah!" replied Astro. "If I was as smart as Alfie, I'd be scared. And besides, what do I need to be smart for? I've got you, haven't I?"
Richards doubled over and stepped in to bring up a solid right, then hesitated. Richards was through. The blow to the mid-section had taken all the fight out of him. Tom refused to pursue his advantage while the other could not fight back. His anger cooling rapidly, Tom realized that the whole fight was nothing more than a misunderstanding.
If Richmond had an artificial value as a token of final triumph, the Mississippi River had scarcely less value of a practical character. Vicksburg and Port Hudson cut out a mid-section of about 200 miles of the great stream, which section still remained under Confederate control. Vicksburg was General Grant's objective point.
"Well, it wasn't any invention; just a sort of discovery how to combine a lot of well-known principles of construction to fit the particular case. You see, it's this way. There was only one available site for the dam, and the mid-section of that was bottomless bog; yet provision had to be made for a sixty-five foot head of water." "You take him, Miss Genevieve," said Lord James.
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