near the back entrance of the Company's caserne, a safe and secluded spot for fights. As they went along, John Bull gave good advice to his young friend.
"Remember he's a wrestler and a savate man," he said, "and that public opinion here recognises the use of both in a fight—so you can expect him to clinch and kick as well as butt."
"Right-o!" said Rupert.
A large ring was formed by the rapidly growing crowd of spectators, a ring, into the middle of which the Bucking Bronco stepped to declare that he would rearrange the features, as well as the ideas, of any supporter of Luigi Rivoli who in any way interfered with the fight.
The two combatants stripped to the waist and faced each other. It was a pleasant surprise to John Bull to notice that his friend looked bigger "peeled," than he did when dressed. (It is a good test of muscular development.) Obviously the youth was in the pink of condition and had systematically developed his muscles. But for the presence of Rivoli, the arms and torso of the Englishman would have evoked admiring comments. As it was, the gigantic figure of the Italian dwarfed him, for he looked what he was—a professional Strong Man whose stock-in-trade was his enormous muscles and their mighty strength…. It was not so much a contrast between David and Goliath as between Apollo and Hercules.
The Italian assumed his favourite wrestling attitude with open hands advanced; the Englishman, the position of boxing.
The two faced each other amidst the perfect silence of the large throng.
