After all, there was a merit in caution, and he had several
lucky stars to bless just at the present moment!
Inwardly he was a bit suspicious of the ultimate ending of the
affair. St. Pierre had almost no cause for complaint, for it was
his own carelessness, coupled with his opponent's luck, that had
been his undoing--and luck and carelessness are legitimate factors
of every fight, Carrigan told himself. But with Bateese it was
different. He had held up his big jaw, uncovered and tempting,
entreating some one to hit him, and Carrigan had yielded to that
temptation. The blow would have stunned an ox. Three others like
it had left the huge half-breed sitting weak-mindedly in the sand,
and no one of those three blows were exactly according to the
rules of the game. They had been mightily efficacious, but the
half-breed might demand a rehearing when he came fully into his
senses.
Not until they were half-way to the bateau did Carrigan dare to
glance back over his shoulder at the man who was paddling, to see
what effect the fistic travesty had left on him. He was a big-
mouthed, clear-eyed, powerfully-muscled fellow, and he was
grinning from ear to ear.
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