"Now," said Tom, with his exasperating coolness, "I propose that _each do
his best_. I don't suppose you want any baby play. I don't. I invite you
to hit me as often and as hard as you can. I'm going to do the same with
you. _Time_!"
They began dancing about a common center, sawing their arms back and
forth, each looking sharply in the other's eye and on the alert for an
opening.
Tom meant to make the other lead; for, before assuming the aggressive, he
wished to know more about Zeigler. It might be he possessed greater skill
than Tom believed. He meant to learn something of his style.
They had circled round several times, when Zeigler thought he saw his
chance, and feinting quickly, let fly with his left. Instead of parrying
the blow, Tom dodged it by throwing his head back. The opportunity was a
capital one to counter on Zeigler, but Tom made no effort to do so. It
looked as if he lacked the quickness and skill, and failed to see his
chance.
Zeigler now began edging nearer. He had come within an inch of reaching
the face of Tom, when he failed to counter. A little closer, and he was
sure he could "knock him out.
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