While willing hands fixed the gloves on the combatants the
necessary floor space was cleared. There were numerous offers of
the services of seconds, but the self-constituted master of
ceremonies, Jake, vetoed all formalities.

'Let them dae battle in their ain fashion,' said he. 'It'll be
mair fun for us. But it's understood that first blood ends it.
Are ye ready, lads? Then get to wark. Nae hittin' ablow the belt.'

By this time Macgregor was beginning to feel amused. The sight of
Willie and himself in the big gloves tickled him.

'Come on, Wullie,' he called cheerfully.

'Am I a leear?' Willie demanded.

'Ye are!--but ye canna help it.'

'I can if I like!' yelled Willie, losing his head. 'Tak' that!'

A tremendous buffet with the right intended for Macgregor's nose
caught his forehead with a sounding whack.

Thus began an extraordinary battle in which there was little
attempt at dodging, less at guarding and none at feinting. Each
man confined his attentions to his opponent's face and endeavoured
to reached the bull's eye, as it were, of the target, though that
point was not often attained, and never with spectacular effect.
Ere long, however, Macgregor developed a puffiness around his left
eye while Willie exhibited a swelling lip. Both soon were pouring