The boys reluctantly unclenched their fists, and the circle parted just enough to allow Jack and Spot to squeeze through. They still retained a tight grip on Mitch's neck.

"Drop him," said Jack curtly.

At a terse nod from Stomp, the boys complied. Jack reached down and pulled the tear-stained Mitch to his feet, then gave him a gentle shove towards the opening in the circle. The goons made an attempt to stop him, but were called off by Stomp. His eyes never shifted from Jack's face.

"So.how are ya, my friend?" There was a wild gleam in Jack's eyes that appeared whenever a fight was coming on.

"Fine. At least, 'til you showed your ugly face, you little bastard."

"You referrin' ta me? Or is there a mirror around I hadn't noticed?"

It wasn't the strongest of openings, but Spot recognized a cue when he saw one. He snickered softly and derisively.

Stomp directed his gaze towards Spot. "What is this, the Shrimp League? Is this da best you can do, Cowboy?"

There were mocking little murmurs of "Oohhh," from the circle around them.

Jack grinned. "Are we a little nasty this mornin', baby boy? Or did we wet the bed last night?" Spot and Jack laughed together, fueling the flames of anger alight in Stomp's eyes.

"I don't take kindly to bein' interrupted by misbegotten kids who thinks they's big and strong," Stomp said softly.

"No? Neither do we." Jack also spoke sotto voice.

"We? Dis your baby brother?" Stomp indicated Spot. "Or is he older?"

"Insults is for cowards whose afraid ta get their hands dirty."

"Cowards like you?"

"I can soak you any day."

"Yeah, yeah, you and the pigeon? Or whatever this is."

"Me and Spot against you and whoever you want to wipe your bloody nose when we're through."

Stomp looked Jack and Spot up and down. "All right. We'll oblige you kids, as long as you're sure you don't just want ta go back to your toys."

"If you're afraid, we won't make you fight. I ain't in the habit of beating up little guys, myself." Jack replied.

"Fine," Stomp snapped. "I choose Goliath."

As the aptly named Goliath stepped forward from the circle, Jack and Spot cast covert glances at one another, each wondering if the other would buckle. Goliath was at least six feet tall, and must have weighed two hundred pounds. He was also stupid as an empty bucket, but with Stomp for brains he was the one of the most formidable fighters in the Refuge.

The circle of boys widened as they made room for the contestants. Gazing at enormous Goliath, Spot whispered to Jack, "Woulda bin a hell of a lot easier just to starve on the streets."

"You're tellin' me."

"Think we'll live?" Spot asked. It was not a joking question.

"Why should we?" It was not a joking reply.

"Ah well. I didn't have much ta live for anyway."

Goliath and Stomp advanced on them, identically murderous grins spread across their faces. Anything further Jack might have said was cut off sharply as Goliath connected a stunning blow to his jaw. Jack's head spun. No, they wouldn't live. They'd die with honor instead.