Will you talk ?" A cloud of red gathered before the eyes of Macklin.

It was impossible that he must believe his ears, and yet the words still rang there.
"Why, curse your little rat-face!" burst out Robert Macklin, and, stepping in, he leaned forward with a perfect straight left.
Certainly his long vacation from boxing had not ruined his eye or stiffened his muscles.

With delight he felt all the big sinews about his shoulders come into play.

Straight and true the big fist drove into the face of the smaller man, but Robert Macklin found that he had punched a hole in thin air.

It was as if the very wind of the blow had brushed the head of Ronicky Doone to one side, and at the same time he seemed to sway and stagger forward.
A hard lean fist struck Robert Macklin's body.