“You men stand back,” he said in a low voice, “and don't any of you interfere.”
Amazed at this exhibition of furious strength, the men started back to their places, leaving a wide space about him.
“Good heavens!” said Bulling, his face turning a shade pale, “the man is mad! Call a policeman, some of you.”
“Drake, lock that door and bring me the key,” said Barney.
As Barney put the key in his pocket and turned again toward Bulling, the latter's pallor increased. “I take you men to witness,” he said, appealing to the company, “if murder is done I'm not responsible. I'm defending my life. Remember, I'll strike to kill.”
“No, Dr. Bulling,” said Barney, handing his club to Drake, “you won't strike at all. I've had my lesson. You'll strike me no more. The boxing exhibition is over. This is a fight till you can fight no more.”
The doctor's nerve was fast going. Barney stood cool, quiet, and terrible.
“I'll give you your chance once again,” he said. “Will you say you are a cowardly liar?”
Dr. Bulling glanced at the group back of him, read pain in their faces, hesitated a moment, then, pulling himself together, said, with an evident effort at bluster, “Not by a ---- sight! Come on! Take your medicine!” But the lesson of the last half hour had not been lost on Barney. Up and down the long room, circling about his man, feinting to draw his attack, eluding, and again feinting, Barney kept his antagonist in such rapid motion and so intensely on the alert that his wind began to fail him, and it soon became evident that he could not stand the pace for very long.
“You've got him!” cried Dick, in an ecstasy of expectation. “Keep it up, Barney! That's the game! You'll have him in five minutes more!”
“Quite evident,” echoed Dr. Trent quietly, hugely enjoying the change in the situation.
Dr. Bulling heard the words. His pallor deepened. Red blotches began to appear on his cheek. The sweat stood out upon his forehead. His breath came in short gasps. He knew he could not last much longer. His only hope lay in immediate attack. He must finish off his man within the next minute or accept defeat. Nature was now taking revenge upon him for his long outraging of her laws. Barney, on the other hand, though bruised and battered about the face, was stepping about easily and lightly, without any sign of the terrible punishment he had suffered. Reading his opponent's face he knew that the moment for a supreme effort had arrived, and waited for his plan to develop. There was only one thing for Bulling to do. Edging his opponent toward the corner and summoning his fast failing strength for a final attack, he forced him hard back into the angle of the wall. He had him now. One clean blow and all would be over.