Young Ole Devil Read Online Free Page A

was clearly unable to stop the continuation of the
attack.
    Seeing his
brother ’s
predicament, Basil set about relieving it. Dropping Cyril’s coat
and hat, he sprang forward without waiting to remove his own.
Before Hardin realized that Basil had intervened, he felt a hand
grasping the back of his shirt collar and another catching his
right wrist to twist it into a hammerlock.
    Having obtained his two holds,
Basil tried to use them as a means of pushing the young dandy away
from his brother. Allowing himself to go until he had regained his
equilibrium, Hardin came to a stop when sure of it. Setting his
weight on his left leg, he thrust his right diagonally until it was
alongside Basil ’s left foot. Doing so caused his body to swing to the
right and he crouched slightly, bending his left arm at the elbow.
Although he had not tried to jerk his right wrist from Basil’s
right hand, the turning motion had brought it from behind his back.
Giving the other no chance to return it to the hammerlock, he
snapped it upwards with his palm towards his attacker. Doing so
caused Basil to loosen his hold a little.
    Instantly,
Hardin ’s
left knuckles ploughed into Basil’s solar plexus. Letting out a croak, Basil released
Hardin’s shirt and felt the wrist snatched away from his fingers.
Coming around, Hardin delivered a right cross to Basil’s jaw which
turned him in a half circle. Nor did he let it end there. Bringing
up his left boot, he rammed it hard against the seat of the younger
brother’s trousers and pushed hard. Unable to help himself, Basil
went staggering to fall on hands and knees half way across the
street.
    Brief though the respite had
been, Cyril had recovered sufficient of his wits to take action.
Shoving away from the hitching rail, he swung a wide, looping
round-house punch which struck the side of the young
man ’s face.
Although the attack came just too late to save Basil and, due to
Cyril still being somewhat dazed, arrived with less than his full
strength behind it, the blow caught Hardin before his foot had
returned to the ground. Pitched sideways, he knew that he could not
prevent himself from falling. So he let himself go and concentrated
on landing as gently as possible. Lighting on the street, he rolled
on to his back.
    Lumbering forward, while his
brother was rising, Cyril dropped with big hand driving forward to
clamp on to Hardin ’s throat. It was also his intention to ram his right knee
into the dandy’s body. Although Hardin could not escape the hands,
he managed to writhe so that the knees missed. That made his
position a little easier, but he knew that he was far from being
out of the woods. Kneeling at his side, Cyril raised his head with
the intention of banging it on the ground. At the same time, Basil
was running forward to help with the attack.
    Strolling from an alley along
the street, a man of about Hardin ’s age stopped as he saw what was
happening. Six foot tall, heavily built, he conveyed an impression
of well-padded> comfortable lethargy. He had curly, auburn hair
showing beneath his black hat, and his sun-reddened features lost
their amiable, sleepy-looking expression as he took in the scene
before the cantina. As he was dressed—with the exception of his scarlet silk
bandana—and armed in the same fashion as Hardin, it seemed likely
that he was connected in some way with the dandy. He too appeared
to have bathed, shaved and donned clean garments recently, Although
his pace changed from a leisurely amble to a run, he knew that he
would not be able to reach the fight before the second assailant
had returned to participate in it.
    Being unaware that help was
coming, Hardin set about saving himself. Bracing his neck, without
making what he knew would be a futile attempt to free it by sheer
strength, he managed to lessen the impact as Cyril shoved downwards
and the back of his head met the ground. Then, as he was raised for
a second time, he pivoted at the hips to send his left