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- Джек Лондон
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- Мартин Иден
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Both
gangs
surged
forward
,
growling
and
snarling
.
In
a
second
there
would
be
a
free
-
for
-
all
fight
,
and
he
would
be
robbed
of
his
vengeance
.
He
was
beside
himself
.
"
You
guys
keep
out
!
"
he
screamed
hoarsely
.
"
Understand
?
Say
,
d
’
ye
understand
?
"
They
shrank
away
from
him
.
They
were
brutes
,
but
he
was
the
arch
-
brute
,
a
thing
of
terror
that
towered
over
them
and
dominated
them
.
"
This
is
my
scrap
,
an
’
they
ain
’
t
goin
’
to
be
no
buttin
’
in
.
Gimme
them
knuckles
.
"
Cheese
-
Face
,
sobered
and
a
bit
frightened
,
surrendered
the
foul
weapon
.
"
You
passed
’
em
to
him
,
you
red
-
head
sneakin
’
in
behind
the
push
there
,
"
Martin
went
on
,
as
he
tossed
the
knuckles
into
the
water
.
"
I
seen
you
,
an
’
I
was
wonderin
’
what
you
was
up
to
.
If
you
try
anything
like
that
again
,
I
’
ll
beat
cheh
to
death
.
Understand
?
"
They
fought
on
,
through
exhaustion
and
beyond
,
to
exhaustion
immeasurable
and
inconceivable
,
until
the
crowd
of
brutes
,
its
blood
-
lust
sated
,
terrified
by
what
it
saw
,
begged
them
impartially
to
cease
.
And
Cheese
-
Face
,
ready
to
drop
and
die
,
or
to
stay
on
his
legs
and
die
,
a
grisly
monster
out
of
whose
features
all
likeness
to
Cheese
-
Face
had
been
beaten
,
wavered
and
hesitated
;
but
Martin
sprang
in
and
smashed
him
again
and
again
.
Next
,
after
a
seeming
century
or
so
,
with
Cheese
-
Face
weakening
fast
,
in
a
mix
-
up
of
blows
there
was
a
loud
snap
,
and
Martin
’
s
right
arm
dropped
to
his
side
.
It
was
a
broken
bone
.
Everybody
heard
it
and
knew
;
and
Cheese
-
Face
knew
,
rushing
like
a
tiger
in
the
other
’
s
extremity
and
raining
blow
on
blow
.
Martin
’
s
gang
surged
forward
to
interfere
.
Dazed
by
the
rapid
succession
of
blows
,
Martin
warned
them
back
with
vile
and
earnest
curses
sobbed
out
and
groaned
in
ultimate
desolation
and
despair
.
He
punched
on
,
with
his
left
hand
only
,
and
as
he
punched
,
doggedly
,
only
half
-
conscious
,
as
from
a
remote
distance
he
heard
murmurs
of
fear
in
the
gangs
,
and
one
who
said
with
shaking
voice
:
"
This
ain
’
t
a
scrap
,
fellows
.
It
’
s
murder
,
an
’
we
ought
to
stop
it
.
"
