Over and over they tumbled in the dust, clutching hair, hammering ribs, and grunting and grasping, blind, deaf, and callous as logs; and Joel Ham stood above them with the familiar cynical twist on his blotched visage, twisting his cane and making audible comments, but offering no further interference.
'After you, my boys--after you.

There is no hurry, Haddon, I can wait as you are so busy.

McKnight, your future is assured.

The prize ring is your sphere: there wealth and glory await you.

Peterson, you see here how degraded that boy be comes who forgets those higher principles which it is my earnest effort to instil into the hearts and minds of the boys of this depraved township.