The Bridgeport evening farmer. [volume] (Bridgeport, Conn.) 1866-1917, 1911-08-15
(Continued.)
CHAPTER XII. e.
THE FIGHT.

sscheorful voice as he stepped inside.
stTs It possible you are not up, with all
This dog barking and sfs
Hts eyes had gone to the empty
bunk. Despite his cheerful greeting
HOwland saw that the Frenchman's
faco was haggard and pale as he turn
I'd quickly toward him. He observed no
Rsfukhsr than that, but flung his whole
asvelght ON tho unprepared Croisset, and
tto9ether they crashed ito the floor.
SHhre WAS scarce a,struggiee Jean
3ay stfIl He was fat on his back, his
arms pfnfoned to his sides, and bring
3ng himself astride the Frenchman's
body 90 that each knee imprisoned an
Farm Rowland coolly began looping
sfhe bnneesEE thonIsti1at he had snatch
fed from the table as he sprang to the
door. Behind Howlands back jeans
Faegs shot suddenly upward. In quick
!. choking,clutch Of steel-like muscle they
eripped4 about his neck like powerful
v arms, and In another instant he was
3W6teds backward with force that
cent him half neck broken to the OPP
zposite wall He staggered to his feet,
dased for a moment, and Jean Croisset
32tOod In the middle Of the floor, his
enribou slI1n coat thrown OF, his hands
ciinched, his eyes darkening with a
dangerous FIRE. As quickly as 1t had
come the fire died away, and as he adj
4anced slowly hts shoulders hunched
eovsr, his white teeth cleaning in
1mile.- Rowland smiled back and adj
,Fanced tor Meetd him.s There was no
aAumor, no frtendliness.S In the smiles.
Both had seen that lash Of teeth and
deadly scintillation Of eyes at other
times. and both knew what it meant
g@T believe that I will kill you,
em'seur." said Jean softly. There was
Sno excitement, no tremble of passion,
SIN his voice. 81 have been thinking
That I ought to kill you. had almost
Emade up my mind to kill you when
came back to this Maison de. Mort
sRouge. It is the justice of God that
Kin your
= The two men circled like BEASTS in
pit. Rowland In the attitude OF a box
ser, Jean with his shoulders bent, his
44rms slightly curved at his side, the
SfDes Of his moccasined feet bearing his
5Neight- Suddenly he launched him.
seef at the others throat.
z In q dash Rowland stepped a little
ito one side and shot out a crushing
4blow that caught Jean on the side of
the head and sent him fat on his
back. Half stunned, Croisset came to
Ibis feet 1t was the first time that he
had ever come into contact with sci
zence. He was puzzled. His head
Epang, and for a few moments he was
dizzy. He darted in again in,,his old,
5Nuick, catlike way and received a
hiow that dazed him. This time he
kept his feet ~ra
: ST am sure now that I am going to
EHn you. m'seur," he said as coolly as
before. ~ 6o- - - ...71e.
e.There was something terribly calm
fApd decisive in his voice. He was not
excited. He was not afraid. His fin
= gers did not go near the weapons in
his belt, and slowly the smile faded
54rom Howland's lips as Jean circled
&about him He had never fought
man Of this kind; never had he looked
an the appalling confidence that was
In his antagonists eyes. From those
ayes rather than from the man he
t@fcund himself slowly Eetreating, They
Followed him, never taking themselves
from his face. In them the fire re-
eturned and grew deeper. The dull
4fed spots began to glow in Croissets
cheeks. and he laughed softly when he
suddenly leaped in = So, that Rowland
struck at him-and missed. He knew
what to expect now. And Rowland
xtnew what to expect.
~ 1t was the science Of one world pit
sfed against that Of another-the sci
Aence Of civilization against that Of the
SHilderness. Rowland was trained in
Ibis art. For sport Jean had played
With wounded lynx. His was the quick
mess Of sight, Of instinct-the quick
Hness Of the great north loon that had
aften played this same game with his
Afine fire. Of the sledge dog whose rip
ping fangsl carried death so quickly
That eyes could not follow. A third
zand q fourth time he came within
distance, and Rowland struck and
bissed.
81 am going to kill you," he said
again.
e 10 this point Rowland bad remained
saool. self possession N his science he
Efnew to be half the battle But he
#1elt I'm him now a slow, swelling anger
&Ehe smiling fash in jeans eyes began
ITO irritate him; the fearless, haunting
EEleam of his teeth, his audacious con-
Szf1dence put him on edge. Twice again
The struck out swiftly, but Jean had
come and gone like a dart. His 1.-THE
body, fifty pounds lighter than How
lands, seemed to be that Of hoy
rtdodging him in some tantalizing sport
The Frenchman made no effort at at
tack. His were the tactics of the wolf
at the heels Of the bull moose, of the
5gnx before the prongs of cernered
sfbuck-tiring, worrying, ceaseless.
&C Howland's striking muscles began
no ache, and his breath was growing
#ehorter with the exertions which seem
I'D to have no effect on Croisset For
- few moments he took the aggressive,
crushing Jean to the stove, behind the
sable, twice around the room, striving
@Fainly to drive him into a corner, to
reach him with one of the sweeping
blows which Croisset evaded with the
lightning quickness of a hell diver.
When he stopped his breath came in