In the bottom were two men, strays from the fight, grappled together and still fighting.

They were weeping out of sheer fatigue and helplessness, and the blows they only occasionally struck were open-handed and ineffectual.
"Hey, you, sport--throw sand in his eyes," Bert counseled.

"That's it, blind him an' he's your'n." "Stop that!" Billy shouted at the man, who was following instructions, "Or I'll come down there an' beat you up myself.

It's all over--d'ye get me?
It's all over an' everybody's friends.

Shake an' make up.