"Know who you're talking to?" he demanded. "Better get wise, you----"
Again he polluted the air with his foulness.
Roger waited until the stream of filth had ceased.
"Are you going to explain what you're doing here?" he asked.
"Am--I? Am I going to explain? Hell! Are you going to explain, you
mean."
"Yes," said Roger, and leaped forward.
Even Higgins whooped in surprise at the swiftness of the spring.
Before the stranger could move Roger was close to him. His right fist
swung from far behind caught the man full on the solar plexus,
literally lifted him off the spoil bank and knocked him into the water
of the ditch.
The other two strangers, heavy-jowled toughs, had sprung to meet Payne.
One Roger staggered with a left swing on the ear; the other grappled
his legs. This man Higgins rewarded with a kick which would have
shattered a thinner skull to bits. Then two separate fights raged up
and down the spoil bank. Instantly Roger and Higgins realized that
they had their hands full. Payne ran into a body punch which made him
realize that his opponent was nearly his equal. Higgins was knocked
down at once, bounding up like a rubber ball and cheering the man who
struck him.
"That was a peach, that one!" he roared, and returned the compliment.
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