and the American was silent, undoubtedly suffering from his wound, which bled freely. Presently he made another spring at Tovotsky, who ducked down, but got a slit across his shoulder, whereon he set up a howl of pain, and ran round and round the ring; while the other followed him, making lunges terrible to see, but doing no more mischief. The effort took the breath out of both of them, and they paused at last, panting like dogs, and drinking spirits which their friends brought them. When they resumed again, it was by mutual agreement, rushing at each other and gripping. Each man then had got hold of the right hand of his antagonist, so that the deadly knives were powerless, while the pair struggled, trying to "back-heel" each other. Round and round they went, bumping against their fellows in the circle, straining their muscles so that they cracked, uttering fierce cries in the agony of the struggle for life. But the American had the strength of it, and he forced Tovotsky's hand back upon him, stabbing him with his own knife again and again, so that the man's breast was covered with wounds, and he seemed like soon to faint from weakness. It might have been that he would have died where he stood, but by some terrible effort he forced himself free; and with the howl of a wild beast, he thrust his own knife to the hilt in the American's side. It broke at the handle; but the long blade
