If you'll go along peaceably to the police station with me, then I'll let you off from a thrashing.

But don't try to run away, for I warn you that I've kept up fairly well the sprinting of my old college days." "I won't go with you, and I won't run," uttered Mr.Fits defiantly.
"Then get off your coat, for I'm going to start in," Old Dut warned the wretch.
Something in the schoolmaster's eye and voice told Fits that he would do well to get himself in trim at once.

Off came his hat and coat.
"Look out, you ferrule-tosser!" jeered Mr.Fits, and led off with one fist after the other.
It had often been remarked, in undertones by Grammar School boys, that Old Dut was fine at thrashing boys, but that it would be different if he had a man of his own size to tackle.
Right now Dick Prescott and Dave Darrin were treated to a sight that they never forgot.

In point of size Old Dut was somewhat over-matched.
At the same time his opponent was a younger man.

Yet it looked like a battle of giants.