"Come on," said the boy, brandishing his short but heavy weapon, "this
is quite in my line, I can tell you!"
It was a curious sight as the two rushed upon each other, so unequal
did the antagonists seem. Bill, the collier, was tall as well as
strongly built, and in the very prime of life; while George, though a
sturdy lad for his age, was many inches shorter, and appeared at first
sight an absurdly inadequate foeman.
In a moment the sticks were clattering merrily together, the lad
hesitating not a whit, for he felt sure that he was at least a match
for the other. George Fairburn had ever been an adept at all school
games, and had spent many a leisure hour at singlestick. In vain did
Bill endeavour to bring down his stick with furious whack upon the
youngster's scalp; his blow was unfailingly parried. It was soon
evident to the man that the boy was playing with him, and when twice
or thrice he received a rap on his shoulder, his arm, his knuckles
even, his fury got quite beyond his control, and he struck out blindly
and viciously, forcing the lad backwards towards the edge of the
wharf.
But Fairburn was not to be taken in that style. Slipping agilely out
of the way, he planted another blow, this time on his opponent's head.
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