the game-第8章

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crouching；　with　his　head　drawn　well　down　between　his　shoulders　and

shielded　by　them。　　His　hands　were　in　position　before　him；　ready

either　to　attack　or　defend。　　The　muscles　of　his　body　were　tense；　and

as　he　moved　about　she　could　see　them　bunch　up　and　writhe　and　crawl

like　live　things　under　the　white　skin。



But　again　Ponta　was　upon　him　and　he　was　struggling　to　live。　　He

crouched　a　bit　more；　drew　his　body　more　compactly　together；　and

covered　up　with　his　hands；　elbows；　and　forearms。　　Blows　rained　upon

him；　and　it　looked　to　her　as　though　he　were　being　beaten　to　death。



But　he　was　receiving　the　blows　on　his　gloves　and　shoulders；　rocking

back　and　forth　to　the　force　of　them　like　a　tree　in　a　storm；　while

the　house　cheered　its　delight。　　It　was　not　until　she　understood　this

applause；　and　saw　Silverstein　half　out　of　his　seat　and　intensely；

madly　happy；　and　heard　the　〃Oh；　you；　Joe's！〃　from　many　throats；　that

she　realized　that　instead　of　being　cruelly　punished　he　was

acquitting　himself　well。　　Then　he　would　emerge　for　a　moment；　again

to　be　enveloped　and　hidden　in　the　whirlwind　of　Ponta's　ferocity。







CHAPTER　V







The　gong　sounded。　　It　seemed　they　had　been　fighting　half　an　hour；

though　from　what　Joe　had　told　her　she　knew　it　had　been　only　three

minutes。　　With　the　crash　of　the　gong　Joe's　seconds　were　through　the

ropes　and　running　him　into　his　corner　for　the　blessed　minute　of

rest。　　One　man；　squatting　on　the　floor　between　his　outstretched　feet

and　elevating　them　by　resting　them　on　his　knees；　was　violently

chafing　his　legs。　　Joe　sat　on　the　stool；　leaning　far　back　into　the

corner；　head　thrown　back　and　arms　outstretched　on　the　ropes　to　give

easy　expansion　to　the　chest。　　With　wide…open　mouth　he　was　breathing

the　towel…driven　air　furnished　by　two　of　the　seconds；　while

listening　to　the　counsel　of　still　another　second　who　talked　with　low

voice　in　his　ear　and　at　the　same　time　sponged　off　his　face；

shoulders；　and　chest。



Hardly　had　all　this　been　accomplished　（it　had　taken　no　more　than

several　seconds）；　when　the　gong　sounded；　the　seconds　scuttled

through　the　ropes　with　their　paraphernalia；　and　Joe　and　Ponta　were

advancing　against　each　other　to　the　centre　of　the　ring。　　Genevieve

had　no　idea　that　a　minute　could　be　so　short。　　For　a　moment　she　felt

that　this　rest　had　been　cut；　and　was　suspicious　of　she　knew　not

what。



Ponta　lashed　out；　right　and　left；　savagely　as　ever；　and　though　Joe

blocked　the　blows；　such　was　the　force　of　them　that　he　was　knocked

backward　several　steps。　　Ponta　was　after　him　with　the　spring　of　a

tiger。　　In　the　involuntary　effort　to　maintain　equilibrium；　Joe　had

uncovered　himself；　flinging　one　arm　out　and　lifting　his　head　from

beneath　the　sheltering　shoulders。　　So　swiftly　had　Ponta　followed

him；　that　a　terrible　swinging　blow　was　coming　at　his　unguarded　jaw。

He　ducked　forward　and　down；　Ponta's　fist　just　missing　the　back　of

his　head。　　As　he　came　back　to　the　perpendicular；　Ponta's　left　fist

drove　at　him　in　a　straight　punch　that　would　have　knocked　him

backward　through　the　ropes。　　Again；　and　with　a　swiftness　an

inappreciable　fraction　of　time　quicker　than　Ponta's；　he　ducked

forward。　　Ponta's　fist　grazed　the　backward　slope　of　the　shoulder；

and　glanced　off　into　the　air。　　Ponta's　right　drove　straight　out；　and

the　graze　was　repeated　as　Joe　ducked　into　the　safety　of　a　clinch。



Genevieve　sighed　with　relief；　her　tense　body　relaxing　and　a

faintness　coming　over　her。　　The　crowd　was　cheering　madly。

Silverstein　was　on　his　feet；　shouting；　gesticulating；　completely　out

of　himself。　　And　even　Mr。　Clausen　was　yelling　his　enthusiasm；　at　the

top　of　his　lungs；　into　the　ear　of　his　nearest　neighbor。



The　clinch　was　broken　and　the　fight　went　on。　　Joe　blocked；　and

backed；　and　slid　around　the　ring；　avoiding　blows　and　living　somehow

through　the　whirlwind　onslaughts。　　Rarely　did　he　strike　blows

himself；　for　Ponta　had　a　quick　eye　and　could　defend　as　well　as

attack；　while　Joe　had　no　chance　against　the　other's　enormous

vitality。　　His　hope　lay　in　that　Ponta　himself　should　ultimately

consume　his　strength。



But　Genevieve　was　beginning　to　wonder　why　her　lover　did　not　fight。

She　grew　angry。　　She　wanted　to　see　him　wreak　vengeance　on　this　beast

that　had　persecuted　him　so。　　Even　as　she　waxed　impatient；　the　chance

came；　and　Joe　whipped　his　fist　to　Ponta's　mouth。　　It　was　a

staggering　blow。　　She　saw　Ponta's　head　go　back　with　a　jerk　and　the

quick　dye　of　blood　upon　his　lips。　　The　blow；　and　the　great　shout

from　the　audience；　angered　him。　　He　rushed　like　a　wild　man。　　The

fury　of　his　previous　assaults　was　as　nothing　compared　with　the　fury

of　this　one。　　And　there　was　no　more　opportunity　for　another　blow。

Joe　was　too　busy　living　through　the　storm　he　had　already　caused；

blocking；　covering　up；　and　ducking　into　the　safety　and　respite　of

the　clinches。



But　the　clinch　was　not　all　safety　and　respite。　　Every　instant　of　it

was　intense　watchfulness；　while　the　breakaway　was　still　more

dangerous。　　Genevieve　had　noticed；　with　a　slight　touch　of　amusement；

the　curious　way　in　which　Joe　snuggled　his　body　in　against　Ponta's　in

the　clinches；　but　she　had　not　realized　why；　until；　in　one　such

clinch；　before　the　snuggling　in　could　be　effected；　Ponta's　fist

whipped　straight　up　in　the　air　from　under；　and　missed　Joe's　chin　by

a　hair's…breadth。　　In　another　and　later　clinch；　when　she　had　already

relaxed　and　sighed　her　relief　at　seeing　him　safely　snuggled；　Ponta；

his　chin　over　Joe's　shoulder；　lifted　his　right　arm　and　struck　a

terrible　downward　blow　on　the　small　of　the　back。　　The　crowd　groaned

its　apprehension；　while　Joe　quickly　locked　his　opponent's　arms　to

prevent　a　repetition　of　the　blow。



The　gong　struck；　and　after　the　fleeting　minute　of　rest；　they　went　at

it　againin　Joe's　corner；　for　Ponta　had　made　a　rush　to　meet　him

clear　across　the　ring。　　Where　the　blow　had　been　over　the　kidneys；

the　white　skin　had　become　bright　red。　　This　splash　of　color；　the

size　of　the　glove；　fascinated　and　frightened　Genevieve　so　that　she

could　scarcely　take　her　eyes　from　it。　　Promptly；　in　the　next　clinch；

the　blow　was　repeated；　but　after　that　Joe　usually　managed　to　give

Ponta　the　heel　of　the　glove　on　the　mouth　and　so　hold　his　head　back。

This　prevented　the　striking　of　the　blow；　but　three　times　more；

before　the　round　ended；　Ponta　effected　the　trick；　each　time　striking

the　same　vulnerable　part。



Another　rest　and　another　round　went　by；　with　no　further　damage　to

Joe　and　no　diminution　of　strength　on　the　part　of　Ponta。　　But　in　the

beginning　of　the　fifth　round；　Joe；　caught　in　a　corner；　made　as

though　to　duck　into　a　clinch。　　Just　before　it　was　effected；　and　at

the　precise　moment　that　Ponta　was　ready　with　his　own　body　to　receive

the　snuggling　in　of　Joe's　body；　Joe　drew　back　slightly　and　drove

with　his　fists　at　his　opponent's　unprotected　stomach。　　Lightning…

like　blows　they　were；　four　of　them；　right　and　left；　and　heavy　they

were；　for　Ponta　winced　away　from　them　and　staggered　back；　half

dropping　his　arms；　his　shoulders　drooping　forward　and　in；　as　though

he　were　about　to　double　in　at　the　waist　and　collapse。　　Joe's　quick

eye　saw　the　opening；　and　he　smashed　straight　out　upon　Ponta's　mouth；

following　instantly　with　a　half　swing；　half　hook；　for　the　jaw。　　It

missed；　striking　the　cheek　instead；　and　sending　Ponta　staggering

sideways。



The　house　was　on　its　feet；　shouting；　to　a　man。　　Genevieve　could　hear

men　crying；　〃He's　got　'm；　he's　got　'm！〃　and　it　seemed　to　her　the

beginning　of　the　end。　　She；　too；　was　out　of　herself；　softness　and

tenderness　had　vanished；　she　exulted　with　each　crushing　blow　her

lover　delivered。



But　Ponta's　vitality　was　yet　to　be　reckoned　with。　　As；　like　a　tiger；

he　had　followed　Joe　up；　Joe　now　followed　him　up。　　He　made　another

half　swing；　half　hook；　for　Ponta's　jaw；　and　Ponta；　already

recovering　his　wits　and　strength；　ducked　cleanly。　　Joe's　fist　passed

on　through　empty　air；　and　so　great　was　the　momentum　of　the　blow　that

it　carrie