In that supreme moment he had constituted himself the champion of all those lads in Scranton who, in times past, had suffered cruel wrongs at the hands of the sneering bully.
There was a furious exchange of blows.

Nick knew how to fight, but on this occasion something seemed to go wrong with his customary programme.

Why, when he hit out his hardest, and expected to see his antagonist reeling back before the blow, to his consternation, it was cleverly warded off, and the next instant something crashed against his own face that made a myriad of luminous stars, never indexed in the galaxy of the heavens, flash before his eyes.
Then Nick was seen to stagger, and fall down.

That was perhaps the first time he had ever taken a dose of his own medicine.

How often had he stood jeeringly over some wretched fellow whom he had sent to grass, counting him out with monotonous chant, in which the joy of brutal victory was prominent?
"Get up and try it again!" said a stern voice.