The Definite Object Part 37

"Crumbs!" said Joe.

"Look at 'im. Guv--look at 'im!" shrieked the old man, dancing to and fro in his impatience, "'ere's a chance for 'im to earn a pore old cove a bit o' 'bacca money, an', what's better still, t' show a pore old fightin' man a bit o' real sport--an' there 'e stands, staring like a peris.h.i.+ng pork pig! Blimy, Guv, get behind an' 'elp me to shove 'im up-stairs."

"But, crikey, sir!" said Joe, "five dollars every time I--"

"Yus, yus, you bloomin' hadjective--two dollars fifty for each of us!

'Urry up, oh, 'urry up afore 'e changes 'is mind an' begins to 'edge."

So Joe follows his "Guv'nor" and the Old Un up a flight of stairs and into a large chamber fitted as a gymnasium, where are four roped and padded posts socketed into the floor; close by is a high-backed armchair in which the Old Un seats himself with an air of heavy portent.

But when Joe would have ducked under the ropes, the Old Un stayed him with an imperious gesture, and, clambering into the ring, advanced to the centre and bowed gravely as if to a countless mult.i.tude.

"Gentlemen," he piped in his shrill old voice, "I take pleasure to introduce Joe Madden, undefeated 'eavyweight champion o' the world, an'

the Guv--both members of this club an' both trained by me, Jack Bowser, once lightweight champion of England an' hall the Americas. Gentlemen, it will be a fight to a finish--Markis o' Queensberry rules.

Gentlemen--I thank ye." Having said which, the Old Un bowed again, gravely stepped from the ring, and ensconcing himself in the armchair, drew out a large and highly ornate watch, while Ravenslee and Joe vaulted over the ropes.

Behold them facing each other, the brown-skinned fighting man wise in ringcraft and champion of a hundred fights, and the white-fleshed athlete, each alike clean and bright of eye, light-poised of foot, quivering for swift action, while the Old Un looks needfully from one to the other, watch in one bony hand, the other upraised.

"Get ready!" he croaked. "Go!"

Comes immediately a quick, light tread of rubber-soled feet and the flash of white arms as they circle about and about, feinting, watchful and wary. Twice Ravenslee's fist shoots out and twice is blocked by Joe's open glove, and once he ducks a vicious swing and lands a half-arm jolt that makes Joe grin and stagger, whereat the Old Un, standing upon his chair, hugs himself in an ecstasy, and forgetful of such small matters as five-dollar bills, urges, prays, beseeches, and implores the Guv to "wallop the blighter on the p'int, to stab 'im on the mark, and to jolt 'im in the kidney-pit."

"Go it, Guv!" he shrieked, "go it! In an' out again, that's it--Gorramighty, I never see sich speed. Oh, keep at 'im, Guv--make 'im cover up--sock it into 'im, Guv! Ho, lumme, what footwork--you're as quick as lightweights--oh, 'appy, 'appy day! Go to it, both on ye!"

And "to it" they went, with jabs and jolts, hooks and swings, with cunning feints and lightning counters until the place echoed and reechoed to the swift tramp of feet and dull thudding of blows, while the Old Un, hugging himself in long, bony arms, chuckled and choked and rocked himself to and fro in an ecstasy; moreover, when Joe, uttering a grunt, reeled back against the ropes, the Old Un must needs shriek and dance and crow with delight until, bethinking him of his duty, he checked his excitement, seated himself in the armchair again, and announced: "Time! End o' round one."

And it is to be noticed that as they sit down to take their two minutes'

rest, neither Ravenslee nor Joe, for all their exertions, seem unduly distressed in their breathing.

"Sir," says Joe, looking his pupil over, "you're uncommon quick on your pins; never knowed a quicker--did you, Old Un?"

"No, me lad--never in all me days!"

"An' you've sure-ly got a punch, sir. Ain't 'e, Old Un?"

"Like a peris.h.i.+n' triphammer!" nodded the Old Un. "Likewise, sir, you've a wonderful judgment o' distance--but, sir, you need experience!"

"That's what I'm after, Joe."

"And you take too many chances; you ain't larned caution yet."

"That you must teach me, Joe."

"Which I surely will, sir. In the next round, subject to no objection, I propose to knock ye down, sir."

"Which means two dollars fifty for each on us, Joe--mind that," added the Old Un.

"So fight more cautious, sir, do," pleaded Joe, "and--look out."

"Time!" croaked the Old Un. "Round two! And Guv, look out for yer p'int, cover yer mark, an' keep a heye on yer kidney-pit!"

Once again they faced each other, but this time it was Joe who circled quick and catlike, ma.s.sive shoulders bowed, knees bent, craggy chin grim and firm-set, but blue eyes serene and mild as ever. A moment's silent sparring, a quick tread of feet, and Joe feints Ravenslee into an opening, swings for his chin, misses by an inch, and ducking a vicious counter, drives home a smas.h.i.+ng body-blow and, staggering weakly, Ravenslee goes down full length.

"Shook ye up a bit, sir?" enquired Joe, running up with hands outstretched, "take a rest, now do, sir."

"No, no," answered Ravenslee, springing to his feet, "the Old Un hasn't called 'Time' yet."

"Not me!" piped the old man, "not bloomin' likely! Go to it, both on ye--mind, that's two-fifty for me, Joe!"

What need is there to tell the numerous feints, the lightning s.h.i.+fts, the different tricks of in-fighting and all the cunning strategy and ringcraft that Joe brought to bear and carefully explained between rounds? Suffice it that at the end of a certain fierce "mix up", as Ravenslee sat outstretched and panting, the white flesh of arms and broad chest discovered many livid marks and patches that told their tale; also one elbow was grazed and bleeding, and one knee showed signs of contact with the floor.

"Joe," said he, when his wind was somewhat recovered, "that makes it thirty dollars I owe you, I think?"

"Why, sir," said Joe, who also showed some slight signs of wear, but whose breathing was soft and regular, "why, sir, you couldn't call that last one a real knockdown--"

"You 'm a liar, Joe, a liar!" cried the Old Un. "Blimy, Guv, Joe's a-tellin' you crackers, s' help me--your 'ands touched the floor, didn't they?"

"And my knees, too," nodded Ravenslee, "also my elbow--no, that was last time or the time before."

"Well, then, tell this lying Joe-lad o' mine as 'e surely did knock ye down. Lord, Joe!" cried the Old Un, waxing pathetic, "'ow can ye go takin' money from a pore old cove like I be. Joe, I blushes for ye--an'--Time, Time there, both on ye!"

"But we don't want any more, do we, sir?" enquired Joe.

"Why, yes, I think I can go another round or so."

"There y' are, Joe, the Guv's surely a game cove. So get at it, me lad, an' try an' knock it up to fifty dollars--'arves, Joe, mind!"

"But, sir," began Joe, eyeing the livid blotches on Ravenslee's white skin, "don't ye think--"

"Time--oh, Time, Time!" shrieked the Old Un. Whereupon Ravenslee sprang to the centre of the ring, and once again the air resounded with tramp of feet and pant of breath. Twice Ravenslee staggers beneath Joe's mighty left, but watchful ever and having learned much, Ravenslee keeps away, biding his time--ducks a swing, sidesteps a drive, and blocking a vicious hook--smacks home his long left to Joe's ribs, rocks him with a swinging uppercut, drives in a lightning left and right, and Joe goes down with a crash.

Even while the Old Un stared in wide-eyed, gaping amaze, Joe was on his feet again, serene and calm as ever, only his great chest laboured somewhat, but Ravenslee shook his head.

"I guess that'll be about enough, Joe," said he.

"Guv," cried the Old Un, seizing Ravenslee's right hand, boxing glove and all, and shaking it to and fro, "you're a credit to us, you do us bloomin' proud--strike me pink, ye do! 'Ere 's Joe 'ammered you an'

'ammered you--look at your bloomin' chest--lumme! 'Ere 's Joe been knockin' ye down an' knockin' ye down, an' you comin' up smilin' for more an' gettin' it--'ere's Joe been a-poundin' of ye all over the ring, yet you can finish strong an' speedy enough to put Joe down--blimy, Guv, you're a wonder an' no error!"

"I don't think Joe fought his hardest, Old Un."

"If 'e didn't," cried the old man, "I'll punch 'im on the nose so 'e won't never smell nothink no more."

"Sir," said Joe, "in the first round p'raps I did go a bit easylike, but arter that I came at you as 'ard an' 'eavy as I could. I 'it you where an' 'ow I could, barrin' your face."

"I hope I shall soon be good enough for you to go for my face as well, Joe."

"But, sir--if I give you a black eye--"