the gang-leader, who was panting and sobbing for breath. Though at first
(and because of superior skill) he had severely punished Joe, he was now
weak and his blows were without force. Growing desperate, he adopted
what might be called not an unfair but a mean method of attack: he would
manoeuver, leap in and strike swiftly, and then, ducking forward, fall
to the ground at Joe's feet. Joe could not strike him while he was down,
and so would step back until he could get on his feet again, when the
thing would be repeated.

But Joe grew tired of this, and prepared for him. Timing his blow with
Simpson's attack, he delivered it just as Simpson was ducking forward
to fall. Simpson fell, but he fell over on one side, whither he had
been driven by the impact of Joe's fist upon his head. He rolled over
and got half-way to his feet, where he remained, crying and gasping.
His followers called upon him to get up, and he tried once or twice,
but was too exhausted and stunned.

"I give in," he said. "I 'm licked."

The gang had become silent and depressed at its leader's defeat.

Joe stepped forward.

"I 'll trouble you for those kites," he said to the boy who was
holding them.

"Oh, I dunno," said another member of the gang, shoving in between
Joe and his property. His hair was also a vivid red. "You 've got
to lick me before you kin have 'em."