“Thank God,” he exclaimed. " Jack was about to comply; but not liking the man's manner, he walked on. He had a peculiar way of stepping in, in a parry; knew his arm, and its just time of moving; put a firm faith in that, and never let his opponent escape. The ring's yours, and you're mine. Not enough of them to make a difference. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood.
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