pgw.psmith,journalist-第15节

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h　it　was　just　possible　to　decipher　in　the　darkness　the　words　〃Highfield　Athletic　and　Gymnastic　Club。〃
　The　tickets　which　Billy　Windsor　had　obtained　from　his　newspaper　friend　were　for　one　of　the　boxes。　These　proved　to　be　sort　of　sheep…pens　of　unpolished　wood；　each　with　four　hard　chairs　in　it。　The　interior　of　the　Highfield　Athletic　and　Gymnastic　Club　was　severely　free　from　anything　in　the　shape　of　luxury　and　ornament。　Along　the　four　walls　were　raised　benches　in　tiers。　On　these　were　seated　as　tough…looking　a　collection　of　citizens　as　one　might　wish　to　see。　On　chairs　at　the　ring…side　were　the　reporters；　with　tickers　at　their　sides；　by　means　of　which　they　tapped　details　of　each　round　through　to　their　down…town　offices；　where　write…up　reporters　were　waiting　to　read　off　and　elaborate　the　messages。　In　the　centre　of　the　room；　brilliantly　lighted　by　half　a　dozen　electric　chandeliers；　was　the　ring。
　There　were　preliminary　bouts　before　the　main　event。　A　burly　gentleman　in　shirt…sleeves　entered　the　ring；　followed　by　two　slim　youths　in　fighting　costume　and　a　massive　person　in　a　red　jersey；　blue　serge　trousers；　and　yellow　braces；　who　chewed　gum　with　an　abstracted　air　throughout　the　proceedings。
　The　burly　gentleman　gave　tongue　in　a　voice　that　cleft　the　air　like　a　cannon…ball。
　〃Ex…hib…it…i…on　four…round　bout　between　Patsy　Milligan　and　Tommy　Goodley；　members　of　this　club。　Patsy　on　my　right；　Tommy　on　my　left。　Gentlemen　will　kindly　stop　smokin'。〃
　The　audience　did　nothing　of　the　sort。　Possibly　they　did　not　apply　the　description　to　themselves。　Possibly　they　considered　the　appeal　a　mere　formula。　Somewhere　in　the　background　a　gong　sounded；　and　Patsy；　from　the　right；　stepped　briskly　forward　to　meet　Tommy；　approaching　from　the　left。
　The　contest　was　short　but　energetic。　At　intervals　the　batants　would　cling　affectionately　to　one　another；　and　on　these　occasions　the　red…jerseyed　man；　still　chewing　gum　and　still　wearing　the　same　air　of　being　lost　in　abstract　thought；　would　split　up　the　mass　by　the　simple　method　of　ploughing　his　way　between　the　pair。　Towards　the　end　of　the　first　round　Thomas；　eluding　a　left　swing；　put　Patrick　neatly　to　the　floor；　where　the　latter　remained　for　the　necessary　ten　seconds。
　The　remaining　preliminaries　proved　disappointing。　So　much　so　that　in　the　last　of　the　series　a　soured　sportsman　on　one　of　the　benches　near　the　roof　began　in　satirical　mood　to　whistle　the　〃Merry　Widow　Waltz。〃　It　was　here　that　the　red…jerseyed　thinker　for　the　first　and　last　time　came　out　of　his　meditative　trance。　He　leaned　over　the　ropes；　and　spokewithout　heat；　but　firmly。
　〃If　that　guy　whistling　back　up　yonder　thinks　he　can　do　better　than　these　boys；　he　can　e　right　down　into　the　ring。〃
　The　whistling　ceased。
　There　was　a　distinct　air　of　relief　when　the　last　preliminary　was　finished　and　preparations　for　the　main　bout　began。　It　did　not　mence　at　once。　There　were　formalities　to　be　gone　through；　introductions　and　the　like。　The　burly　gentleman　reappeared　from　nowhere；　ushering　into　the　ring　a　sheepishly…grinning　youth　in　a　flannel　suit。
　〃In…ter…doo…cin'　Young　Leary；〃　he　bellowed　impressively；　〃a　noo　member　of　this　chub；　who　will　box　some　good　boy　here　in　September。〃
　He　walked　to　the　other　side　of　the　ring　and　repeated　the　remark。　A　raucous　wele　was　accorded　to　the　new　member。
　Two　other　notable　performers　were　introduced　in　a　similar　manner；　and　then　the　building　became　suddenly　full　of　noise；　for　a　tall　youth　in　a　bath…robe；　attended　by　a　little　army　of　assistants；　had　entered　the　ring。　One　of　the　army　carried　a　bright　green　bucket；　on　which　were　painted　in　white　letters　the　words　〃Cyclone　Al。　Wolmann。〃　A　moment　later　there　was　another；　though　a　far　lesser；　uproar；　as　Kid　Brady；　his　pleasant　face　wearing　a　self…conscious　smirk；　ducked　under　the　ropes　and　sat　down　in　the　opposite　corner。
　〃Ex…hib…it…i…on　ten…round　bout；〃　thundered　the　burly　gentleman；　〃between　Cyclone。　Al。　Wolmann〃
　Loud　applause。　Mr。　Wolmann　was　one　of　the　famous；　a　fighter　with　a　reputation　from　New　York　to　San　Francisco。　He　was　generally　considered　the　most　likely　man　to　give　the　hitherto　invincible　Jimmy　Garvin　a　hard　battle　for　the　light…weight　championship。
　〃Oh；　you　Al。！〃　roared　the　crowd。
　Mr。　Wolmann　bowed　benevolently。
　〃and　Kid　Brady；　members　of　this〃
　There　was　noticeably　less　applause　for　the　Kid。　He　was　an　unknown。　A　few　of　those　present　had　heard　of　his　victories　in　the　West；　but　these　were　but　a　small　section　of　the　crowd。　When　the　faint　applause　had　ceased；　Psmith　rose　to　his　feet。
　〃Oh；　you　Kid！〃　he　observed　encouragingly。
　〃I　should　not　like　rade　Brady；〃　he　said；　reseating　himself；　〃to　think　that　he　has　no　friend　but　his　poor　old　mother；　as；　you　will　recollect；　occurred　on　a　previous　occasion。〃
　The　burly　gentleman；　followed　by　the　two　armies　of　assistants；　dropped　down　from　the　ring；　and　the　gong　sounded。
　Mr。　Wolmann　sprang　from　his　corner　as　if　somebody　had　touched　a　spring。　He　seemed　to　be　of　the　opinion　that　if　you　are　a　cyclone；　it　is　never　too　soon　to　begin　behaving　like　one。　He　danced　round　the　Kid　with　an　india…rubber　agility。　The　Cosy　Moments　representative　exhibited　more　stolidity。　Except　for　the　fact　that　he　was　in　fighting　attitude；　with　one　gloved　hand　moving　slowly　in　the　neighbourhood　of　his　stocky　chest；　and　the　other　pawing　the　air　on　a　line　with　his　square　jaw；　one　would　have　said　that　he　did　not　realise　the　position　of　affairs。　He　wore　the　friendly　smile　of　the　good…natured　guest　who　is　led　forward　by　his　hostess　to　join　in　some　round　game。
　Suddenly　his　opponent's　long　left　shot　out。　The　Kid；　who　had　been　strolling　forward；　received　it　under　the　chin；　and　continued　to　stroll　forward　as　if　nothing　of　note　had　happened。　He　gave　the　impression　of　being　aware　that　Mr。　Wolmann　had　mitted　a　breach　of　good　taste　and　of　being　resolved　to　pass　it　off　with　ready　tact。
　The　Cyclone；　having　executed　a　backward　leap；　a　forward　leap；　and　a　feint；　landed　heavily　with　both　hands。　The　Kid's　genial　smile　did　not　even　quiver；　but　he　continued　to　move　forward。　His　opponent's　left　flashed　out　again；　but　this　time；　instead　of　ignoring　the　matter；　the　Kid　replied　with　a　heavy　right　swing；　and　Mr。　Wolmann；　leaping　back；　found　himself　against　the　ropes。　By　the　time　he　had　got　out　of　that　uncongenial　position；　two　more　of　the　Kid's　swings　had　found　their　mark。　Mr。　Wolmann；　somewhat　perturbed；　scuttered　out　into　the　middle　of　the　ring；　the　Kid　following　in　his　self…contained；　solid　way。
　The　Cyclone　now　became　still　more　cyclonic。　He　had　a　left　arm　which　seemed　to　open　out　in　joints　like　a　telescope。　Several　times　when　the　Kid　appeared　well　out　of　distance　there　was　a　thud　as　a　brown　glove　ripped　in　over　his　guard　and　jerked　his　head　back。　But　always　he　kept　boring　in；　delivering　an　occasional　right　to　the　body　with　the　pleased　smile　of　an　infant　destroying　a　Noah's　Ark　with　a　tack…hammer。　Despite　these　efforts；　however；　he　was　plainly　getting　all　the　worst　of　it。　Energetic　Mr。　Wolmann；　relying　on　his　long　left；　was　putting　in　three　blows　to　his　one。　When　the　gong　sounded；　ending　the　first　round；　the　house　was　practically　solid　for　the　Cyclone。　Whoops　and　yells　rose　from　everywhere。　The　building　rang　with　shouts　of；　〃Oh；　you　Al。！〃
　Psmith　turned　sadly　to　Billy。
　〃It　seems　to　me；　rade　Windsor；〃　he　said；　〃that　this　merry　meeting　looks　like　doing　rade　Brady　no　good。　I　should　not　be　surprised　at　any　moment　to　see　his　head　bounce　off　on　to　the　floor。〃
　〃Wait；〃　said　Billy。　〃He'll　win　yet。〃
　〃You　think　so？〃
　〃Sure。　He　es　from　Wyoming；〃　said　Billy　with　simple　confidence。
　Rounds　two　and　three　were　a　repetition　of　round　one。　The　Cyclone　raged　almost　unchecked　about　the　ring。　In　one　lightning　rally　in　the　third　he　brought　his　right　across　squarely　on　to　the　Kid's　jaw。　It　was　a　blow　which　should　have　knocked　any　boxer　out。　The　Kid　merely　staggered　slightly　and　returned　to　business；　still　smiling。
　〃See！〃　roared　Billy　enthusiastically　in　Psmith's　ear；　above　the　uproar。　〃He　doesn't　mind　it！　He　likes　it！　He　es　from　Wyoming！〃
　With　the　opening　of　round　four　there　came　a　subtle　change。　The　Cyclone's　fury　was　expending　itself。　That　long　left　shot　out　less　sharply。　Instead　of　being　knocked　back　by　it；　the　Cosy　Moments　champion　now　took　the　hits　in　his　stride；　and　came　shuffling　in　with　his　damaging　body…blows。　There　were　cheers　and　〃Oh；　you　Al。's！〃　at　the　sound　of　the　gong；　but　there　was　an　appealing　note　in　them　this　time。　The　gallant　sportsmen　whose　connection　with　boxing　was　confined　to　watching　other　men　fight；　and　betting　on　what　they　considered　a　certainty；　and　who　would　have　expired　promptly　if　any　one　had　tapped　them　sharply　on　their　well…filled　waistcoats；　were　beginning　to　fear　that　they　might　lose　their　money　after　all。
　In　the　fifth　round　the　thing　became　a　certainty。　Like　the　month　of　March；　the　Cyclone；　who　had　e　in　like　a　lion；　was　going　out　like　a　lamb。　A　slight　decrease　in　the　pleasantness　of　the　Kid's　smile　was　noticeable。　His　expression　began　to　resemble　more　nearly　the　gloomy　importance　of　the　Cosy　Moments　photographs。　Yells　of　agony　from　panic…stricken　speculators　around　the　ring　began　to　smite　the　rafters。　The　Cyclone；　now　but　a　gentle　breeze；　clutched　repeatedly；　hanging　on　like　a　leech　till　removed　by　the　red…jerseyed