The young noble faced the huge champion with the languid gallantry
of his race, but was no match for the enemy's brawn and biceps, and
went down in every round. His organisation, in fact, though fine, was
not sufficiently firm and well-knit to face the sinewy and skilful
SCHNADDY. The brutal fellow, who meant business, had no mercy on the
lad, who meant larks. His savage treatment chafed CODLINGSBY JUNIOR,
as he viewed the unequal combat from White's window.

"Hold your hand!" he cried to the Goliath. "Don't you see he's but a
novice?"

"Down he goes again!" the wiry Wirepuller cried, not heeding the
interruption. "Down he goes again! I like whopping a swell!"

"Coward!" shouted CODLINGSBY. "The sight makes me feel quite Dizzy.
A CODLINGSBY to the rescue!" and to fling open the window, amidst a
shower of malodorous missiles, to vault over the balcony, and slide
down one of the pillars to the ground, baring his steely biceps in
the process, and shying the "castor" from his curly looks with all the
virile grace of the Great Earl, was the work of exactly five-sixths of
a second.

At the sixth-sixth he stood before the enormous Wirepuller.

"SCHNADDY, my boy," he exclaimed, "I'm going to fight you with your
own weapon--and wallop you. Look to yourself, churl Caucusite!"

"DIZZY's _Double, by all that's theosophical!_" faltered SCHNADDY,
shrinking at once to half his previous size, under the influence of