Suddenly there was a roar from the crowd. Shan Rhue had struck Ben
Tremont a staggering blow. They heard Ben let out a roar like a wounded
bull, as he threw the great bulk of his body upon the man who had struck
him.
Now they were wrestling, and the frail stand in which they were,
fifteen feet above the ground, swayed with their struggle.
"Kill him!" shouted the gamblers.
"Throw him down here!"
"Let us finish him!"
"Stay with him, Shan!"
These and other cries and threats were shouted by the mob. But Ted
Strong said nothing. He was watching the struggle intently and quietly.
He had no fear but that Ben would be able to hold his own. His great
strength hardly matched that of Shan Rhue, who was a giant, and the most
feared man in the Wichita Mountains. But Ben was more than his match in
wrestling skill, and, moreover, he was younger and more supple for all
his bulk, and his work on the football gridiron when in college had
taught him tricks of the tackle of which the big bully did not dream.
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