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But Dick saw the spirit in his eye and knew that he was far from
conquered.
Woodville smiled and threw back his long hair from his face.
"A good one for you. You shook me up," he admitted, "but I don't see any
sign of your ability to carry me to that Yankee colonel, as you boasted
you would do."
"But I'm going to do it."
The rain increased and washed the blood from both their faces. It was
dark within the ravine, but they had been face to face so long that they
could read the eyes of each other. Those of Woodville like those of Dick
ceased to express great anger. In the mind of each was growing a respect
for his antagonist. The will to conquer remained, but not the desire to
hate.
"If you're going to do it, then why don't you?" said Woodville.
Dick moved slowly forward, still watching the eyes of the Mississippian.
He believed now that Woodville, agile and alert though he might be,
had not fully recovered his strength. There was terrific steam in that
last punch and the head of the man who had received it might well be
buzzing yet.


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