dreamed that Dave was so powerful, yet he threw prudence to the winds and rushed in, trying again to reach Dave's face with his fist. But Dave skipped to one side, put out his foot, and again Merwell went down, on his hands and knees.
"I'll fix you!" he roared, scrambling up, his face red with rage. "I'll show you what I can do! How do you like that, you poorhouse rat!"
This time he hit Dave in the breast. The blow was a heavy one, but it did not hurt nearly as much as did the words which accompanied it. They made Dave shiver as if with ague, and, all in a blaze he could not curb, he sprang towards Link Merwell. Out shot first one fist and then the other, the blows landing on the eye and chin of the tall youth. They made him stagger back against the ice-boat. Then came a third blow, and Merwell gave a gasp, swayed from side to side, and would have fallen had not Nat Poole caught him as he was going down.
"Stop, Porter; don't hit him again!"
"Merwell, do you take back what you just said?" demanded Dave, paying no attention to Nat Poole's remark.
There was an instant of silence. Link Merwell Avanted to answer, but was too dazed to do so. Slowly and painfully he stood erect. His head was in a whirl and one eye was rather rapidly closing.
