Page:MacGrath--The luck of the Irish.djvu/93



ILLIAM was strong, quick, and aggressive, but the sudden jab in the locality of his kidneys took all the fight out of him; the power, mind you, not the will to fight. The pain was excruciating; breathing was a torture. The kidney blow, as in boxing, was well known to him; but his unseen assailant had hit an unknown spot, causing a kind of paralysis. He felt his wrists seized in a grip which was like cold wire, drawn back, and clutched by one hand. It seemed incredible that any human being could render him so helpless. The free hand began to rifle the coat pockets. It was all very fast work. William subconsciously paid tribute to this. He had not boxed all these years without being able to recognize speed and skill. Even while this thought was passing through his head, the man behind gave him a kick back of the knee-joint; and the bewildered William went floundering among the stacked steamer chairs. When he crawled to his feet he was alone.

At once he took inventory. His wallet, with some thirty-odd dollars, was gone; but his watch was safe, as was his letter of credit, which he carried in the hip pocket of his trousers.