"And take back the crack you passed to me." "Let's have it," taunted Dick, throwing himself on the defensive.
Miller aimed a vicious blow but did not land.

Instead, Prescott hit him on the short ribs.
"If you're going to fight, stand up and take your medicine!" roared Miller, in a rage.
"Handle your own foot-work to suit yourself!" Dick retorted.
"I'll do the same.

But you can't fight, anyway!" That taunt threw the liquor seller into a still greater rage.
With a yell he sprang at Prescott.

But again Dick failed to be there.
The high school boy was not having an easy time, however.

Miller's strength was formidable, and Dick knew that he could not stop many straight blows from his opponent without disaster.
Two merely glancing blows scraped the lad, who had landed four blows on Miller.