diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:10:19 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:10:19 -0700 |
| commit | 69bb0bb3719c31151c27101d081dc7dd2a93d42b (patch) | |
| tree | d7b14b86c088fcf0a7c52cb51e5df64359b5c30c | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38443-8.txt | 2274 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38443-8.zip | bin | 0 -> 43435 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38443-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 177143 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38443-h/38443-h.htm | 3054 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38443-h/images/002.png | bin | 0 -> 1225 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38443-h/images/cover2a.jpg | bin | 0 -> 40410 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38443-h/images/frontis.jpg | bin | 0 -> 99732 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38443.txt | 2274 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 38443.zip | bin | 0 -> 43406 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
12 files changed, 7618 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/38443-8.txt b/38443-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4fe1858 --- /dev/null +++ b/38443-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2274 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Croxley Master: A Great Tale Of The +Prize Ring, by Arthur Conan Doyle + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Croxley Master: A Great Tale Of The Prize Ring + +Author: Arthur Conan Doyle + +Release Date: December 30, 2011 [EBook #38443] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CROXLEY MASTER: A GREAT *** + + + + +Produced by Gerard Arthus, Dianna Adair and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from scans of public domain material +produced by Microsoft for their Live Search Books site.) + + + + + + + + Illustration: The Fighter in the outdoor ring. + + + + + THE CROXLEY MASTER + + A GREAT TALE OF THE PRIZE RING + + BY + + A. CONAN DOYLE + + Illustration: The Fighter in the outdoor ring. + + NEW YORK + McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO. + MCMVII + + _Copyright, 1907, by McClure, Phillips & Co._ + + + + +_THE CROXLEY MASTER_ + + + + +I + + +Mr. Robert Montgomery was seated at his desk, his head upon his hands, +in a state of the blackest despondency. Before him was the open ledger +with the long columns of Dr. Oldacre's prescriptions. At his elbow lay +the wooden tray with the labels in various partitions, the cork box, the +lumps of twisted sealing-wax, while in front a rank of empty bottles +waited to be filled. But his spirits were too low for work. He sat in +silence, with his fine shoulders bowed and his head upon his hands. + +Outside, through the grimy surgery window over a foreground of blackened +brick and slate, a line of enormous chimneys like Cyclopean pillars +upheld the lowering, dun-coloured cloud-bank. For six days in the week +they spouted smoke, but to-day the furnace fires were banked, for it was +Sunday. Sordid and polluting gloom hung over a district blighted and +blasted by the greed of man. There was nothing in the surroundings to +cheer a desponding soul, but it was more than his dismal environment +which weighed upon the medical assistant. + +His trouble was deeper and more personal. The winter session was +approaching. He should be back again at the University completing the +last year which would give him his medical degree; but alas! he had not +the money with which to pay his class fees, nor could he imagine how he +could procure it. Sixty pounds were wanted to make his career, and it +might have been as many thousands for any chance there seemed to be of +his obtaining it. + +He was roused from his black meditation by the entrance of Dr. Oldacre +himself, a large, clean-shaven, respectable man, with a prim manner and +an austere face. He had prospered exceedingly by the support of the +local Church interest, and the rule of his life was never by word or +action to run a risk of offending the sentiment which had made him. His +standard of respectability and of dignity was exceedingly high, and he +expected the same from his assistants. His appearance and words were +always vaguely benevolent. A sudden impulse came over the despondent +student. He would test the reality of this philanthropy. + +"I beg your pardon, Dr. Oldacre," said he, rising from his chair; "I +have a great favour to ask of you." + +The doctor's appearance was not encouraging. His mouth suddenly +tightened, and his eyes fell. + +"Yes, Mr. Montgomery?" + +"You are aware, sir, that I need only one more session to complete my +course." + +"So you have told me." + +"It is very important to me, sir." + +"Naturally." + +"The fees, Dr. Oldacre, would amount to about sixty pounds." + +"I am afraid that my duties call me elsewhere, Mr. Montgomery." + +"One moment, sir! I had hoped, sir, that perhaps, if I signed a paper +promising you interest upon your money, you would advance this sum to +me. I will pay you back, sir, I really will. Or, if you like, I will +work it off after I am qualified." + +The doctor's lips had thinned into a narrow line. His eyes were raised +again, and sparkled indignantly. + +"Your request is unreasonable, Mr. Montgomery. I am surprised that you +should have made it. Consider, sir, how many thousands of medical +students there are in this country. No doubt there are many of them who +have a difficulty in finding their fees. Am I to provide for them all? +Or why should I make an exception in your favour? I am grieved and +disappointed, Mr. Montgomery, that you should have put me into the +painful position of having to refuse you." He turned upon his heel, and +walked with offended dignity out of the surgery. + +The student smiled bitterly, and turned to his work of making up the +morning prescriptions. It was poor and unworthy work--work which any +weakling might have done as well, and this was a man of exceptional +nerve and sinew. But, such as it was, it brought him his board and £1 a +week, enough to help him during the summer months and let him save a few +pounds towards his winter keep. But those class fees! Where were they to +come from? He could not save them out of his scanty wage. Dr. Oldacre +would not advance them. He saw no way of earning them. His brains were +fairly good, but brains of that quality were a drug in the market. He +only excelled in his strength; and where was he to find a customer for +that? But the ways of Fate are strange, and his customer was at hand. + +"Look y'ere!" said a voice at the door. + +Montgomery looked up, for the voice was a loud and rasping one. A young +man stood at the entrance--a stocky, bull-necked young miner, in tweed +Sunday clothes and an aggressive necktie. He was a sinister-looking +figure, with dark, insolent eyes, and the jaw and throat of a bulldog. + +"Look y'ere!" said he again. "Why hast thou not sent t' medicine oop as +thy master ordered?" + +Montgomery had become accustomed to the brutal frankness of the Northern +worker. At first it had enraged him, but after a time he had grown +callous to it, and accepted it as it was meant. But this was something +different. It was insolence--brutal, overbearing insolence, with +physical menace behind it. + +"What name?" he asked coldly. + +"Barton. Happen I may give thee cause to mind that name, yoong man. Mak' +oop t' wife's medicine this very moment, look ye, or it will be the +worse for thee." + +Montgomery smiled. A pleasant sense of relief thrilled softly through +him. What blessed safety-valve was this through which his jangled nerves +might find some outlet. The provocation was so gross, the insult so +unprovoked, that he could have none of those qualms which take the edge +off a man's mettle. He finished sealing the bottle upon which he was +occupied, and he addressed it and placed it carefully in the rack. + +"Look here!" said he turning round to the miner, "your medicine will be +made up in its turn and sent down to you. I don't allow folk in the +surgery. Wait outside in the waiting-room, if you wish to wait at all." + +"Yoong man," said the miner, "thou's got to mak' t' wife's medicine +here, and now, and quick, while I wait and watch thee, or else happen +thou might need some medicine thysel' before all is over." + +"I shouldn't advise you to fasten a quarrel upon me." Montgomery was +speaking in the hard, staccato voice of a man who is holding himself in +with difficulty. "You'll save trouble if you'll go quietly. If you don't +you'll be hurt. Ah, you would? Take it, then!" + +The blows were almost simultaneous--a savage swing which whistled past +Montgomery's ear, and a straight drive which took the workman on the +chin. Luck was with the assistant. That single whizzing uppercut, and +the way in which it was delivered, warned him that he had a formidable +man to deal with. But if he had underrated his antagonist, his +antagonist had also underrated him, and had laid himself open to a fatal +blow. + +The miner's head had come with a crash against the corner of the surgery +shelves, and he had dropped heavily onto the ground. There he lay with +his bandy legs drawn up and his hands thrown abroad, the blood trickling +over the surgery tiles. + +"Had enough?" asked the assistant, breathing fiercely through his nose. + +But no answer came. The man was insensible. And then the danger of his +position came upon Montgomery, and he turned as white as his antagonist. +A Sunday, the immaculate Dr. Oldacre with his pious connection, a savage +brawl with a patient; he would irretrievably lose his situation if the +facts came out. It was not much of a situation, but he could not get +another without a reference, and Oldacre might refuse him one. Without +money for his classes, and without a situation--what was to become of +him? It was absolute ruin. + +But perhaps he could escape exposure after all. He seized his insensible +adversary, dragged him out into the centre of the room, loosened his +collar, and squeezed the surgery sponge over his face. He sat up at last +with a gasp and a scowl. + +"Domn thee, thou's spoilt my necktie," said he, mopping up the water +from his breast. + +"I'm sorry I hit you so hard," said Montgomery, apologetically. + +"Thou hit me hard! I could stan' such fly-flappin' all day. 'Twas this +here press that cracked my pate for me, and thou art a looky man to be +able to boast as thou hast outed me. And now I'd be obliged to thee if +thou wilt give me t' wife's medicine." + +Montgomery gladly made it up and handed it to the miner. + +"You are weak still," said he. "Won't you stay awhile and rest?" + +"T' wife wants her medicine," said the man, and lurched out at the door. + +The assistant, looking after him, saw him rolling with an uncertain step +down the street, until a friend met him, and they walked on arm-in-arm. +The man seemed in his rough Northern fashion to bear no grudge, and so +Montgomery's fears left him. There was no reason why the doctor should +know anything about it. He wiped the blood from the floor, put the +surgery in order, and went on with his interrupted task, hoping that he +had come scathless out of a very dangerous business. + +Yet all day he was aware of a sense of vague uneasiness, which sharpened +into dismay when, late in the afternoon, he was informed that three +gentlemen had called and were waiting for him in the surgery. A +coroner's inquest, a descent of detectives, an invasion of angry +relatives--all sorts of possibilities rose to scare him. With tense +nerves and a rigid face he went to meet his visitors. + +They were a very singular trio. Each was known to him by sight; but what +on earth the three could be doing together, and, above all, what they +could expect from _him_, was a most inexplicable problem. + +The first was Sorley Wilson, the son of the owner of the Nonpareil +Coalpit. He was a young blood of twenty, heir to a fortune, a keen +sportsman, and down for the Easter Vacation from Magdalene College. He +sat now upon the edge of the surgery table, looking in thoughtful +silence at Montgomery, and twisting the ends of his small, black, waxed +moustache. + +The second was Purvis, the publican, owner of the chief beershop, and +well known as the local bookmaker. He was a coarse, clean-shaven man, +whose fiery face made a singular contrast with his ivory-white bald +head. He had shrewd, light-blue eyes with foxy lashes, and he also +leaned forward in silence from his chair, a fat, red hand upon either +knee, and stared critically at the young assistant. + +So did the third visitor, Fawcett, the horsebreaker, who leaned back, +his long, thin legs, with their box-cloth riding-gaiters, thrust out in +front of him, tapping his protruding teeth with his riding-whip, with +anxious thought in every line of his rugged, bony face. Publican, +exquisite, and horsebreaker were all three equally silent, equally +earnest, and equally critical. Montgomery, seated in the midst of them, +looked from one to the other. + +"Well, gentlemen?" he observed, but no answer came. + +The position was embarrassing. + +"No," said the horsebreaker, at last. "No. It's off. It's nowt." + +"Stand oop, lad; let's see thee standin'." It was the publican who +spoke. + +Montgomery obeyed. He would learn all about it, no doubt, if he were +patient. He stood up and turned slowly round, as if in front of his +tailor. + +"It's off! It's off!" cried the horsebreaker. "Why, mon, the Master +would break him over his knee." + +"Oh, that behanged for a yarn!" said the young Cantab. "You can drop out +if you like, Fawcett, but I'll see this thing through, if I have to do +it alone. I don't hedge a penny. I like the cut of him a great deal +better than I liked Ted Barton." + +"Look at Barton's shoulders, Mr. Wilson." + +"Lumpiness isn't always strength. Give me nerve and fire and breed. +That's what wins." + +"Ay, sir, you have it theer--you have it theer!" said the fat, red-faced +publican, in a thick, suety voice. "It's the same wi' poops. Get 'em +clean-bred an' fine, and they'll yark the thick 'uns--yark 'em out o' +their skins." + +"He's ten good pund on the light side," growled the horsebreaker. + +"He's a welter weight, anyhow." + +"A hundred and thirty." + +"A hundred and fifty, if he's an ounce." + +"Well, the master doesn't scale much more than that." + +"A hundred and seventy-five." + +"That was when he was hog-fat and living high. Work the grease out of +him, and I lay there's no great difference between them. Have you been +weighed lately, Mr. Montgomery?" + +It was the first direct question which had been asked him. He had stood +in the midst of them, like a horse at a fair, and he was just beginning +to wonder whether he was more angry or amused. + +"I am just eleven stone," said he. + +"I said that he was a welter weight." + +"But suppose you was trained?" said the publican. "Wot then?" + +"I am always in training." + +"In a manner of speakin', do doubt, he _is_ always in trainin'," +remarked the horsebreaker. "But trainin' for everyday work ain't the +same as trainin' with a trainer; and I dare bet, with all respec' to +your opinion, Mr. Wilson, that there's half a stone of tallow on him at +this minute." + +The young Cantab put his fingers on the assistant's upper arm. Then with +his other hand on his wrist he bent the forearm sharply, and felt the +biceps, as round and hard as a cricket-ball, spring up under his +fingers. + +"Feel that!" said he. + +The publican and horsebreaker felt it with an air of reverence. + +"Good lad! He'll do yet!" cried Purvis. + +"Gentlemen," said Montgomery, "I think that you will acknowledge that I +have been very patient with you. I have listened to all that you have to +say about my personal appearance, and now I must really beg that you +will have the goodness to tell me what is the matter." + +They all sat down in their serious, businesslike way. + +"That's easy done, Mr. Montgomery," said the fat-voiced publican. "But +before sayin' anything, we had to wait and see whether, in a way of +speakin', there was any need for us to say anything at all. Mr. Wilson +thinks there is. Mr. Fawcett, who has the same right to his opinion, +bein' also a backer and one o' the committee, thinks the other way." + +"I thought him too light built, and I think so now," said the +horsebreaker, still tapping his prominent teeth with the metal head of +his riding-whip. "But happen he may pull through; and he's a fine-made, +buirdly young chap, so if you mean to back him, Mr. Wilson----" + +"Which I do." + +"And you, Purvis?" + +"I ain't one to go back, Fawcett." + +"Well, I'll stan' to my share of the purse." + +"And well I knew you would," said Purvis, "for it would be somethin' new +to find Isaac Fawcett as a spoil-sport. Well, then, we make up the +hundred for the stake among us, and the fight stands--always supposin' +the young man is willin'." + +"Excuse all this rot, Mr. Montgomery," said the University man, in a +genial voice. "We've begun at the wrong end, I know, but we'll soon +straighten it out, and I hope that you will see your way to falling in +with our views. In the first place, you remember the man whom you +knocked out this morning? He is Barton--the famous Ted Barton." + +"I'm sure, sir, you may well be proud to have outed him in one round," +said the publican. "Why, it took Morris, the ten-stone-six champion, a +deal more trouble than that before he put Barton to sleep. You've done a +fine performance, sir, and happen you'll do a finer, if you give +yourself the chance." + +"I never heard of Ted Barton, beyond seeing the name on a medicine +label," said the assistant. + +"Well, you may take it from me that he's a slaughterer," said the +horsebreaker. "You've taught him a lesson that he needed, for it was +always a word and a blow with him, and the word alone was worth five +shillin' in a public court. He won't be so ready now to shake his nief +in the face of everyone he meets. However, that's neither here nor +there." + +Montgomery looked at them in bewilderment. + +"For goodness sake, gentlemen, tell me what it is you want me to do!" he +cried. + +"We want you to fight Silas Craggs, better known as the Master of +Croxley." + +"But why?" + +"Because Ted Barton was to have fought him next Saturday. He was the +champion of the Wilson coal-pits, and the other was the Master of the +iron-folk down at the Croxley smelters. We'd matched our man for a purse +of a hundred against the Master. But you've queered our man, and he +can't face such a battle with a two-inch cut at the back of his head. +There's only one thing to be done, sir, and that is for you to take his +place. If you can lick Ted Barton you may lick the Master of Croxley; +but if you don't we're done, for there's no one else who is in the same +street with him in this district. It's twenty rounds, two-ounce gloves, +Queensberry rules, and a decision on points if you fight to the finish." + +For a moment the absurdity of the thing drove every other thought out +of Montgomery's head. But then there came a sudden revulsion. A hundred +pounds!--all he wanted to complete his education was lying there ready +to his hand, if only that hand were strong enough to pick it up. He had +thought bitterly that morning that there was no market for his strength, +but here was one where his muscle might earn more in an hour than his +brains in a year. But a chill of doubt came over him. + +"How can I fight for the coal-pits?" said he. "I am not connected with +them." + +"Eh, lad, but thou art!" cried old Purvis. "We've got it down in +writin', and it's clear enough. 'Any one connected with the coal-pits.' +Doctor Oldacre is the coal-pit club doctor; thou art his assistant. What +more can they want?" + +"Yes, that's right enough," said the Cantab. "It would be a very +sporting thing of you, Mr. Montgomery, if you would come to our help +when we are in such a hole. Of course, you might not like to take the +hundred pounds; but I have no doubt that, in the case of your winning, +we could arrange that it should take the form of a watch or piece of +plate, or any other shape which might suggest itself to you. You see, +you are responsible for our having lost our champion, so we really feel +that we have a claim upon you." + +"Give me a moment, gentlemen. It is very unexpected. I am afraid the +doctor would never consent to my going--in fact, I am sure that he would +not." + +"But he need never know--not before the fight, at any rate. We are not +bound to give the name of our man. So long as he is within the weight +limits on the day of the fight, that is all that concerns any one." + +The adventure and the profit would either of them have attracted +Montgomery. The two combined were irresistible. + +"Gentlemen," said he, "I'll do it!" + +The three sprang from their seats. The publican had seized his right +hand, the horse-dealer his left, and the Cantab slapped him on the back. + +"Good lad! good lad!" croaked the publican. "Eh, mon, but if thou yark +him, thou'll rise in one day from being just a common doctor to the +best-known mon 'twixt here and Bradford. Thou art a witherin' tyke, thou +art, and no mistake; and if thou beat the Master of Croxley, thou'll +find all the beer thou want for the rest of thy life waiting for thee at +the Four Sacks." + +"It is the most sporting thing I ever heard of in my life," said young +Wilson. "By George, sir, if you pull it off, you've got the constituency +in your pocket, if you care to stand. You know the outhouse in my +garden?" + +"Next the road?" + +"Exactly. I turned it into a gymnasium for Ted Barton. You'll find all +you want there: clubs, punching ball, bars, dumb-bells, everything. Then +you'll want a sparring partner. Ogilvy has been acting for Barton, but +we don't think that he is class enough. Barton bears you no grudge. He's +a good-hearted fellow, though cross-grained with strangers. He looked +upon you as a stranger this morning, but he says he knows you now. He is +quite ready to spar with you for practice, and he will come at any hour +you will name." + +"Thank you; I will let you know the hour," said Montgomery; and so the +committee departed jubilant upon their way. + +The medical assistant sat for a little time in the surgery turning it +over in his mind. He had been trained originally at the University by +the man who had been middle-weight champion in his day. It was true that +his teacher was long past his prime, slow upon his feet and stiff in his +joints, but even so he was still a tough antagonist; but Montgomery had +found at last that he could more than hold his own with him. He had won +the University medal, and his teacher, who had trained so many students, +was emphatic in his opinion that he had never had one who was in the +same class with him. He had been exhorted to go in for the Amateur +Championships, but he had no particular ambition in that direction. Once +he had put on the gloves with Hammer Tunstall in a booth at a fair, and +had fought three rattling rounds, in which he had the worst of it, but +had made the prize-fighter stretch himself to the uttermost. There was +his whole record, and was it enough to encourage him to stand up to the +Master of Croxley? He had never heard of the Master before, but then he +had lost touch of the ring during the last few years of hard work. After +all, what did it matter? If he won, there was the money, which meant so +much to him. If he lost, it would only mean a thrashing. He could take +punishment without flinching, of that he was certain. If there were only +one chance in a hundred of pulling it off, then it was worth his while +to attempt it. + +Dr. Oldacre, new come from church, with an ostentatious Prayer-book in +his kid-gloved hand, broke in upon his meditation. + +"You don't go to service, I observe, Mr. Montgomery," said he, coldly. + +"No, sir; I have had some business to detain me." + +"It is very near to my heart that my household should set a good +example. There are so few educated people in this district that a great +responsibility devolves upon us. If we do not live up to the highest, +how can we expect these poor workers to do so? It is a dreadful thing to +reflect that the parish takes a great deal more interest in an +approaching glove-fight than in their religious duties." + +"A glove-fight, sir?" said Montgomery, guiltily. + +"I believe that to be the correct term. One of my patients tells me that +it is the talk of the district. A local ruffian, a patient of ours, by +the way, is matched against a pugilist over at Croxley. I cannot +understand why the law does not step in and stop so degrading an +exhibition. It is really a prize-fight." + +"A glove fight, you said." + +"I am informed that a two-ounce glove is an evasion by which they dodge +the law, and make it difficult for the police to interfere. They contend +for a sum of money. It seems dreadful and almost incredible--does it +not?--to think that such scenes can be enacted within a few miles of our +peaceful home. But you will realize, Mr. Montgomery, that while there +are such influences for us to counteract, it is very necessary that we +should live up to our highest." + +The doctor's sermon would have had more effect if the assistant had not +once or twice had occasion to test his highest and come upon it at +unexpectedly humble elevations. It is always so particularly easy to +"compound for sins we're most inclined to by damning those we have no +mind to." In any case, Montgomery felt that of all the men concerned in +such a fight--promoters, backers, spectators--it is the actual fighter +who holds the strongest and most honourable position. His conscience +gave him no concern upon the subject. Endurance and courage are virtues, +not vices, and brutality is, at least, better than effeminacy. + +There was a little tobacco-shop at the corner of the street, where +Montgomery got his bird's-eye and also his local information, for the +shopman was a garrulous soul, who knew everything about the affairs of +the district. The assistant strolled down there after tea and asked, in +a casual way, whether the tobacconist had ever heard of the Master of +Croxley. + +"Heard of him! Heard of him!" the little man could hardly articulate in +his astonishment. "Why, sir, he's the first mon o' the district, an' his +name's as well known in the West Riding as the winner o' t' Derby. But +Lor', sir"--here he stopped and rummaged among a heap of papers. "They +are makin' a fuss about him on account o' his fight wi' Ted Barton, and +so the _Croxley Herald_ has his life an' record, an' here it is, an' +thou canst read it for thysel'." + +The sheet of the paper which he held up was a lake of print around an +islet of illustration. The latter was a coarse wood-cut of a pugilist's +head and neck set in a cross-barred jersey. It was a sinister but +powerful face, the face of a debauched hero, clean-shaven, strongly +eyebrowed, keen-eyed, with a huge aggressive jaw and an animal dewlap +beneath it. The long, obstinate cheeks ran flush up to the narrow, +sinister eyes. The mighty neck came down square from the ears and curved +outwards into shoulders, which had lost nothing at the hands of the +local artist. Above was written "Silas Craggs," and beneath, "The Master +of Croxley." + +"Thou'll find all about him there, sir," said the tobacconist. "He's a +witherin' tyke, he is, and we're proud to have him in the county. If he +hadn't broke his leg he'd have been champion of England." + +"Broke his leg, has he?" + +"Yes, and it set badly. They ca' him owd K behind his bock, for thot is +how his two legs look. But his arms--well, if they was both stropped to +a bench, as the sayin' is, I wonder where the champion of England would +be then." + +"I'll take this with me," said Montgomery; and putting the paper into +his pocket he returned home. + +It was not a cheering record which he read there. The whole history of +the Croxley Master was given in full, his many victories, his few +defeats. + +"Born in 1857," said the provincial biographer, "Silas Craggs, better +known in sporting circles as The Master of Croxley, is now in his +fortieth year." + +"Hang it, I'm only twenty-three," said Montgomery to himself, and read +on more cheerfully. + +"Having in his youth shown a surprising aptitude for the game, he fought +his way up among his comrades, until he became the recognized champion +of the district and won the proud title which he still holds. Ambitious +of a more than local fame, he secured a patron, and fought his first +fight against Jack Barton, of Birmingham, in May, 1880, at the old +Loiterers' Club. Craggs, who fought at ten-stone-two at the time, had +the better of fifteen rattling rounds, and gained an award on points +against the Midlander. Having disposed of James Dunn, of Rotherhithe, +Cameron, of Glasgow, and a youth named Fernie, he was thought so highly +of by the fancy that he was matched against Ernest Willox, at that time +middle-weight champion of the North of England, and defeated him in a +hard-fought battle, knocking him out in the tenth round after a +punishing contest. At this period it looked as if the very highest +honours of the ring were within the reach of the young Yorkshireman, but +he was laid upon the shelf by a most unfortunate accident. The kick of a +horse broke his thigh, and for a year he was compelled to rest himself. +When he returned to his work the fracture had set badly, and his +activity was much impaired. It was owing to this that he was defeated in +seven rounds by Willox, the man whom he had previously beaten, and +afterwards by James Shaw, of London, though the latter acknowledged that +he had found the toughest customer of his career. Undismayed by his +reverses, the Master adapted the style of his fighting to his physical +disabilities and resumed his career of victory--defeating Norton (the +black), Bobby Wilson, and Levy Cohen, the latter a heavy-weight. +Conceding two stone, he fought a draw with the famous Billy McQuire, and +afterwards, for a purse of fifty pounds, he defeated Sam Hare at the +Pelican Club, London. In 1891 a decision was given against him upon a +foul when fighting a winning fight against Jim Taylor, the Australian +middle-weight, and so mortified was he by the decision, that he withdrew +from the ring. Since then he has hardly fought at all save to +accommodate any local aspirant who may wish to learn the difference +between a bar-room scramble and a scientific contest. The latest of +these ambitious souls comes from the Wilson coal-pits, which have +undertaken to put up a stake of £100 and back their local champion. +There are various rumours afloat as to who their representative is to +be, the name of Ted Barton being freely mentioned; but the betting, +which is seven to one on the Master against any untried man, is a fair +reflection of the feeling of the community." + +Montgomery read it over twice, and it left him with a very serious face. +No light matter this which he had undertaken; no battle with a +rough-and-tumble fighter who presumed upon a local reputation. The man's +record showed that he was first-class--or nearly so. There were a few +points in his favour, and he must make the most of them. There was +age--twenty-three against forty. There was an old ring proverb that +"Youth will be served," but the annals of the ring offer a great number +of exceptions. A hard veteran, full of cool valour and ring-craft, could +give ten or fifteen years and a beating to most striplings. He could not +rely too much upon his advantage in age. But then there was the +lameness; that must surely count for a great deal. And, lastly, there +was the chance that the Master might underrate his opponent, that he +might be remiss in his training, and refuse to abandon his usual way of +life, if he thought that he had an easy task before him. In a man of +his age and habits this seemed very possible. Montgomery prayed that it +might be so. Meanwhile, if his opponent were the best man who ever +jumped the ropes into a ring, his own duty was clear. He must prepare +himself carefully, throw away no chance, and do the very best that he +could. But he knew enough to appreciate the difference which exists in +boxing, as in every sport, between the amateur and the professional. The +coolness, the power of hitting, above all the capability of taking +punishment, count for so much. Those specially developed, +gutta-percha-like abdominal muscles of the hardened pugilist will take +without flinching a blow which would leave another man writhing on the +ground. Such things are not to be acquired in a week, but all that could +be done in a week should be done. + +The medical assistant had a good basis to start from. He was 5 feet 11 +inches--tall enough for anything on two legs, as the old ring men used +to say--lithe and spare, with the activity of a panther, and a strength +which had hardly yet ever found its limitations. His muscular +development was finely hard, but his power came rather from that higher +nerve-energy which counts for nothing upon a measuring tape. He had the +well-curved nose, and the widely-opened eye which never yet were seen +upon the face of a craven, and behind everything he had the driving +force, which came from the knowledge that his whole career was at stake +upon the contest. The three backers rubbed their hands when they saw him +at work punching the ball in the gymnasium next morning; and Fawcett, +the horsebreaker, who had written to Leeds to hedge his bets, sent a +wire to cancel the letter, and to lay another fifty at the market price +of seven to one. + +Montgomery's chief difficulty was to find time for his training without +any interference from the doctor. His work took him a large part of the +day, but as the visiting was done on foot, and considerable distances +had to be traversed, it was a training in itself. For the rest, he +punched the swinging ball and worked with the dumb-bells for an hour +every morning and evening, and boxed twice a day with Ted Barton in the +gymnasium, gaining as much profit as could be got from a rushing, +two-handed slogger. Barton was full of admiration for his cleverness and +quickness, but doubtful about his strength. Hard hitting was the feature +of his own style, and he exacted it from others. + +"Lord, sir, that's a turble poor poonch for an eleven-stone man!" he +would cry. "Thou wilt have to hit harder than that afore t' Master will +know that thou art theer. Ah, thot's better, mon, thot's fine!" he would +add, as his opponent lifted him across the room on the end of a right +counter. "Thot's how I likes to feel 'em. Happen thou'lt pull through +yet." He chuckled with joy when Montgomery knocked him into a corner. +"Eh, mon, thou art comin' along grand. Thou hast fair yarked me off my +legs. Do it again, lad, do it again!" + +The only part of Montgomery's training which came within the doctor's +observation was his diet, and that puzzled him considerably. + +"You will excuse my remarking, Mr. Montgomery, that you are becoming +rather particular in your tastes. Such fads are not to be encouraged in +one's youth. Why do you eat toast with every meal?" + +"I find that it suits me better than bread, sir." + +"It entails unnecessary work upon the cook. I observe, also, that you +have turned against potatoes." + +"Yes, sir; I think that I am better without them." + +"And you no longer drink your beer?" + +"No, sir." + +"These causeless whims and fancies are very much to be deprecated, Mr. +Montgomery. Consider how many there are to whom these very potatoes and +this very beer would be most acceptable." + +"No doubt, sir. But at present I prefer to do without them." + +They were sitting alone at lunch, and the assistant thought that it +would be a good opportunity of asking leave for the day of the fight. + +"I should be glad if you could let me have leave for Saturday, Doctor +Oldacre." + +"It is very inconvenient upon so busy a day." + +"I should do a double day's work on Friday so as to leave everything in +order. I should hope to be back in the evening." + +"I am afraid I cannot spare you, Mr. Montgomery." + +This was a facer. If he could not get leave he would go without it. + +"You will remember, Doctor Oldacre, that when I came to you it was +understood that I should have a clear day every month. I have never +claimed one. But now there are reasons why I wish to have a holiday upon +Saturday." + +Doctor Oldacre gave in with a very bad grace. + +"Of course, if you insist upon your formal rights, there is no more to +be said, Mr. Montgomery, though I feel that it shows a certain +indifference to my comfort and the welfare of the practice. Do you still +insist?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very good. Have your way." + +The doctor was boiling over with anger, but Montgomery was a valuable +assistant--steady, capable, and hard-working--and he could not afford to +lose him. Even if he had been prompted to advance those class fees, for +which his assistant had appealed, it would have been against his +interests to do so, for he did not wish him to qualify, and he desired +him to remain in his subordinate position, in which he worked so hard +for so small a wage. There was something in the cool insistence of the +young man, a quiet resolution in his voice as he claimed his Saturday, +which aroused his curiosity. + +"I have no desire to interfere unduly with your affairs, Mr. Montgomery, +but were you thinking of having a day in Leeds upon Saturday?" + +"No, sir." + +"In the country?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You are very wise. You will find a quiet day among the wild flowers a +very valuable restorative. Had you thought of any particular direction?" + +"I am going over Croxley way." + +"Well, there is no prettier country when once you are past the +iron-works. What could be more delightful than to lie upon the Fells, +basking in the sunshine, with perhaps some instructive and elevating +book as your companion? I should recommend a visit to the ruins of St. +Bridget's Church, a very interesting relic of the early Norman era. By +the way, there is one objection which I see to your going to Croxley on +Saturday. It is upon that date, as I am informed, that that ruffianly +glove-fight takes place. You may find yourself molested by the +blackguards whom it will attract." + +"I will take my chance of that, sir," said the assistant. + +On the Friday night, which was the last before the fight, Montgomery's +three backers assembled in the gymnasium and inspected their man as he +went through some light exercises to keep his muscles supple. He was +certainly in splendid condition, his skin shining with health, and his +eyes with energy and confidence. The three walked round him and exulted. + +"He's simply ripping!" said the undergraduate. "By gad, you've come out +of it splendidly. You're as hard as a pebble, and fit to fight for your +life." + +"Happen he's a trifle on the fine side," said the publican. "Runs a bit +light at the loins, to my way of thinkin'." + +"What weight to-day?" + +"Ten stone eleven," the assistant answered. + +"That's only three pund off in a week's trainin'," said the +horsebreaker. "He said right when he said that he was in condition. +Well, it's fine stuff all there is of it, but I'm none so sure as there +is enough." He kept poking his finger into Montgomery, as if he were one +of his horses. "I hear that the Master will scale a hundred and sixty +odd at the ring-side." + +"But there's some of that which he'd like well to pull off and leave +behind wi' his shirt," said Purvis. "I hear they've had a rare job to +get him to drop his beer, and if it had not been for that great +red-headed wench of his they'd never ha' done it. She fair scratted the +face off a potman that had brought him a gallon from t' Chequers. They +say the hussy is his sparrin' partner, as well as his sweetheart, and +that his poor wife is just breakin' her heart over it. Hullo, young 'un, +what do you want?" + +The door of the gymnasium had opened, and a lad about sixteen, grimy and +black with soot and iron, stepped into the yellow glare of the oil-lamp. +Ted Barton seized him by the collar. + +"See here, thou yoong whelp, this is private, and we want noan o' thy +spyin'!" + +"But I maun speak to Mr. Wilson." + +The young Cantab stepped forward. + +"Well, my lad, what is it?" + +"It's aboot t' fight, Mr. Wilson, sir. I wanted to tell your mon +somethin' aboot t' Maister." + +"We've no time to listen to gossip, my boy. We know all about the +Master." + +"But thou doant, sir. Nobody knows but me and mother, and we thought as +we'd like thy mon to know, sir, for we want him to fair bray him." + +"Oh, you want the Master fair brayed, do you? So do we. Well, what have +you to say?" + +"Is this your mon, sir?" + +"Well, suppose it is?" + +"Then it's him I want to tell aboot it. T' Maister is blind o' the left +eye." + +"Nonsense!" + +"It's true, sir. Not stone blind, but rarely fogged. He keeps it secret, +but mother knows, and so do I. If thou slip him on the left side he +can't cop thee. Thou'll find it right as I tell thee. And mark him when +he sinks his right. 'Tis his best blow, his right upper-cut. T' +Maister's finisher, they ca' it at t' works. It's a turble blow, when it +do come home." + +"Thank you, my boy. This is information worth having about his sight," +said Wilson. "How came you to know so much? Who are you?" + +"I'm his son, sir." + +Wilson whistled. + +"And who sent you to us?" + +"My mother. I maun get back to her again." + +"Take this half-crown." + +"No, sir, I don't seek money in comin' here. I do it----" + +"For love?" suggested the publican. + +"For hate!" said the boy, and darted off into the darkness. + +"Seems to me t' red-headed wench may do him more harm than good, after +all," remarked the publican. "And now, Mr. Montgomery, sir, you've done +enough for this evenin', an' a nine hours' sleep is the best trainin' +before a battle. Happen this time to-morrow night you'll be safe back +again with your £100 in your pocket." + + + + +II + + +Work was struck at one o'clock at the coal-pits and the iron-works, and +the fight was arranged for three. From the Croxley Furnaces, from +Wilson's Coal-pits, from the Heartsease Mine, from the Dodd Mills, from +the Leverworth Smelters the workmen came trooping, each with his +fox-terrier or his lurcher at his heels. Warped with labour and twisted +by toil, bent double by week-long work in the cramped coal galleries, or +half-blinded with years spent in front of white-hot fluid metal, these +men still gilded their harsh and hopeless lives by their devotion to +sport. It was their one relief, the only thing which could distract +their mind from sordid surroundings, and give them an interest beyond +the blackened circle which inclosed them. Literature, art, science, all +these things were beyond the horizon; but the race, the football match, +the cricket, the fight, these were things which they could understand, +which they could speculate upon in advance and comment upon afterwards. +Sometimes brutal, sometimes grotesque, the love of sport is still one +of the great agencies which make for the happiness of our people. It +lies very deeply in the springs of our nature, and when it has been +educated out, a higher, more refined nature may be left, but it will not +be of that robust British type which has left its mark so deeply on the +world. Every one of these ruddled workers, slouching with his dog at his +heels to see something of the fight, was a true unit of his race. + +It was a squally May day, with bright sun-bursts and driving showers. +Montgomery worked all morning in the surgery getting his medicine made +up. + +"The weather seems so very unsettled, Mr. Montgomery," remarked the +doctor, "that I am inclined to think that you had better postpone your +little country excursion until a later date." + +"I am afraid that I must go to-day, sir." + +"I have just had an intimation that Mrs. Potter, at the other side of +Angleton, wishes to see me. It is probable that I shall be there all +day. It will be extremely inconvenient to leave the house empty so +long." + +"I am very sorry, sir, but I must go," said the assistant, doggedly. + +The doctor saw that it would be useless to argue, and departed in the +worst of bad tempers upon his mission. Montgomery felt easier now that +he was gone. He went up to his room, and packed his running-shoes, his +fighting-drawers, and his cricket-sash into a handbag. When he came down +Mr. Wilson was waiting for him in the surgery. + +"I hear the doctor has gone." + +"Yes; he is likely to be away all day." + +"I don't see that it matters much. It's bound to come to his ears by +to-night." + +"Yes; it's serious with me, Mr. Wilson. If I win, it's all right. I +don't mind telling you that the hundred pounds will make all the +difference to me. But if I lose, I shall lose my situation, for, as you +say, I can't keep it secret." + +"Never mind. We'll see you through among us. I only wonder the doctor +has not heard, for it's all over the country that you are to fight the +Croxley Champion. We've had Armitage up about it already. He's the +Master's backer, you know. He wasn't sure that you were eligible. The +Master said he wanted you whether you were eligible or not. Armitage has +money on, and would have made trouble if he could. But I showed him that +you came within the conditions of the challenge, and he agreed that it +was all right. They think they have a soft thing on." + +"Well, I can only do my best," said Montgomery. + +They lunched together; a silent and rather nervous repast, for +Montgomery's mind was full of what was before him, and Wilson had +himself more money at stake than he cared to lose. + +Wilson's carriage and pair were at the door, the horses with +blue-and-white rosettes at their ears, which were the colours of the +Wilson Coal-pits, well known on many a football field. At the avenue +gate a crowd of some hundred pit-men and their wives gave a cheer as the +carriage passed. To the assistant it all seemed dream-like and +extraordinary--the strangest experience of his life, but with a thrill +of human action and interest in it which made it passionately absorbing. +He lay back in the open carriage and saw the fluttering handkerchiefs +from the doors and windows of the miners' cottages. Wilson had pinned a +blue-and-white rosette upon his coat, and every one knew him as their +champion. "Good luck, sir! good luck to thee!" they shouted from the +roadside. He felt that it was like some unromantic knight riding down to +sordid lists, but there was something of chivalry in it all the same. He +fought for others as well as for himself. He might fail from want of +skill or strength, but deep in his sombre soul he vowed that it should +never be for want of heart. + +Mr. Fawcett was just mounting into his high-wheeled, spidery dogcart, +with his little bit of blood between the shafts. He waved his whip and +fell in behind the carriage. They overtook Purvis, the tomato-faced +publican, upon the road, with his wife in her Sunday bonnet. They also +dropped into the procession, and then, as they traversed the seven miles +of the high-road to Croxley, their two-horsed, rosetted carriage became +gradually the nucleus of a comet with a loosely radiating tail. From +every side-road came the miners' carts, the humble, ramshackle traps, +black and bulging, with their loads of noisy, foul-tongued, open-hearted +partisans. They trailed for a long quarter of a mile behind +them--cracking, whipping, shouting, galloping, swearing. Horsemen and +runners were mixed with the vehicles. And then suddenly a squad of the +Sheffield Yeomanry, who were having their annual training in those +parts, clattered and jingled out of a field, and rode as an escort to +the carriage. Through the dust-clouds round him Montgomery saw the +gleaming brass helmets, the bright coats, and the tossing heads of the +chargers, the delighted brown faces of the troopers. It was more +dream-like than ever. + +And then, as they approached the monstrous, uncouth line of +bottle-shaped buildings which marked the smelting-works of Croxley, +their long, writhing snake of dust was headed off by another but longer +one which wound across their path. The main-road into which their own +opened was filled by the rushing current of traps. The Wilson contingent +halted until the others should get past. The iron-men cheered and +groaned, according to their humour, as they whirled past their +antagonist. Rough chaff flew back and forwards like iron nuts and +splinters of coal. "Brought him up, then!" "Got t' hearse for to fetch +him back?" "Where's t' owd K-legs?" "Mon, mon, have thy photograph +took--'twill mind thee of what thou used to look!" "He fight?--he's +now't but a half-baked doctor!" "Happen he'll doctor thy Croxley +Champion afore he's through wi't." + +So they flashed at each other as the one side waited and the other +passed. Then there came a rolling murmur swelling into a shout, and a +great break with four horses came clattering along, all streaming with +salmon-pink ribbons. The driver wore a white hat with pink rosette, and +beside him, on the high seat, were a man and a woman--she with her arm +round his waist. Montgomery had one glimpse of them as they flashed +past: he with a furry cap drawn low over his brow, a great frieze coat, +and a pink comforter round his throat; she brazen, red-headed, +bright-coloured, laughing excitedly. The Master, for it was he, turned +as he passed, gazed hard at Montgomery, and gave him a menacing, +gap-toothed grin. It was a hard, wicked face, blue-jowled and craggy, +with long, obstinate cheeks and inexorable eyes. The break behind was +full of patrons of the sport--flushed iron-foremen, heads of +departments, managers. One was drinking from a metal flask, and raised +it to Montgomery as he passed; and then the crowd thinned, and the +Wilson _cortège_ with their dragoons swept in at the rear of the others. + +The road led away from Croxley, between curving green hills, gashed and +polluted by the searchers for coal and iron. The whole country had been +gutted, and vast piles of refuse and mountains of slag suggested the +mighty chambers which the labor of man had burrowed beneath. On the left +the road curved up to where a huge building, roofless and dismantled, +stood crumbling and forlorn, with the light shining through the +windowless squares. + +"That's the old Arrowsmith's factory. That's where the fight is to be," +said Wilson. "How are you feeling now?" + +"Thank you. I was never better in my life," Montgomery answered. + +"By Gad, I like your nerve!" said Wilson, who was himself flushed and +uneasy. "You'll give us a fight for our money, come what may. That +place on the right is the office, and that has been set aside as the +dressing and weighing-room." + +The carriage drove up to it amidst the shouts of the folk upon the +hillside. Lines of empty carriages and traps curved down upon the +winding road, and a black crowd surged round the door of the ruined +factory. The seats, as a huge placard announced, were five shillings, +three shillings, and a shilling, with half-price for dogs. The takings, +deducting expenses, were to go to the winner, and it was already evident +that a larger stake than a hundred pounds was in question. A babel of +voices rose from the door. The workers wished to bring their dogs in +free. The men scuffled. The dogs barked. The crowd was a whirling, +eddying pool surging with a roar up to the narrow cleft which was its +only outlet. + +The break, with its salmon-coloured streamers and four reeking horses, +stood empty before the door of the office; Wilson, Purvis, Fawcett, and +Montgomery passed in. + +There was a large, bare room inside with square, clean patches upon the +grimy walls, where pictures and almanacs had once hung. Worn linoleum +covered the floor, but there was no furniture save some benches and a +deal table with a ewer and a basin upon it. Two of the corners were +curtained off. In the middle of the room was a weighing-chair. A hugely +fat man, with a salmon tie and a blue waist-coat with bird's-eye spots, +came bustling up to them. It was Armitage, the butcher and grazier, well +known for miles round as a warm man, and the most liberal patron of +sport in the Riding. + +"Well, well," he grunted, in a thick, fussy, wheezy voice, "you have +come, then. Got your man? Got your man?" + +"Here he is, fit and well. Mr. Montgomery, let me present you to Mr. +Armitage." + +"Glad to meet you, sir. Happy to make your acquaintance. I make bold to +say, sir, that we of Croxley admire your courage, Mr. Montgomery, and +that our only hope is a fair fight and no favour and the best man win. +That's our sentiment at Croxley." + +"And it is my sentiment also," said the assistant. + +"Well, you can't say fairer than that, Mr. Montgomery. You've taken a +large contrac' in hand, but a large contrac' may be carried through, +sir, as any one that knows my dealings could testify. The Master is +ready to weigh in!" + +"So am I." + +"You must weigh in the buff." + +Montgomery looked askance at the tall, red-headed woman who was +standing gazing out of the window. + +"That's all right," said Wilson. "Get behind the curtain and put on your +fighting-kit." + +He did so, and came out the picture of an athlete, in white, loose +drawers, canvas shoes, and the sash of a well-known cricket club round +his waist. He was trained to a hair, his skin gleaming like silk, and +every muscle rippling down his broad shoulders and along his beautiful +arms as he moved them. They bunched into ivory knobs, or slid into long, +sinuous curves, as he raised or lowered his hands. + +"What thinkest thou o' that?" asked Ted Barton, his second, of the woman +in the window. + +She glanced contemptuously at the young athlete. + +"It's but a poor kindness thou dost him to put a thread-paper yoong +gentleman like yon against a mon as is a mon. Why, my Jock would +throttle him wi' one hond lashed behind him." + +"Happen he may--happen not," said Barton. "I have but twa pund in the +world, but it's on him, every penny, and no hedgin'. But here's t' +Maister, and rarely fine he do look." + +The prize-fighter had come out from his curtain, a squat, formidable +figure, monstrous in chest and arms, limping slightly on his distorted +leg. His skin had none of the freshness and clearness of Montgomery's, +but was dusky and mottled, with one huge mole amid the mat of tangled +black hair which thatched his mighty breast. His weight bore no relation +to his strength, for those huge shoulders and great arms, with brown, +sledge-hammer fists, would have fitted the heaviest man that ever threw +his cap into a ring. But his loins and legs were slight in proportion. +Montgomery, on the other hand, was as symmetrical as a Greek statue. It +would be an encounter between a man who was specially fitted for one +sport, and one who was equally capable of any. The two looked curiously +at each other: a bulldog, and a high-bred, clean-limbed terrier, each +full of spirit. + +"How do you do?" + +"How do?" The Master grinned again, and his three jagged front teeth +gleamed for an instant. The rest had been beaten out of him in twenty +years of battle. He spat upon the floor. "We have a rare fine day +for't." + +"Capital," said Montgomery. + +"That's the good feelin' I like," wheezed the fat butcher. "Good lads, +both of them!--prime lads!--hard meat an' good bone. There's no +ill-feelin'." + +"If he downs me, Gawd bless him!" said the Master. + +"An' if we down him, Gawd help him!" interrupted the woman. + +"Haud thy tongue, wench!" said the Master, impatiently. "Who art thou to +put in thy word? Happen I might draw my hand across thy face." + +The woman did not take the threat amiss. + +"Wilt have enough for thy hand to do, Jock," said she. "Get quit o' this +gradely man afore thou turn on me." + +The lovers' quarrel was interrupted by the entrance of a new comer, a +gentleman with a fur-collared overcoat and a very shiny top-hat--a +top-hat of a degree of glossiness which is seldom seen five miles from +Hyde Park. This hat he wore at the extreme back of his head, so that the +lower surface of the brim made a kind of frame for his high, bald +forehead, his keen eyes, his rugged and yet kindly face. He bustled in +with the quiet air of possession with which the ring-master enters the +circus. + +"It's Mr. Stapleton, the referee from London," said Wilson. + +"How do you do, Mr. Stapleton? I was introduced to you at the big fight +at the Corinthian Club, in Piccadilly." + +"Ah, I dare say," said the other, shaking hands. "Fact is, I'm +introduced to so many that I can't undertake to carry their names. +Wilson, is it? Well, Mr. Wilson, glad to see you. Couldn't get a fly at +the station, and that's why I'm late." + +"I'm sure, sir," said Armitage, "we should be proud that any one so well +known in the boxing world should come down to our little exhibition." + +"Not at all. Not at all. Anything in the interests of boxin'. All ready? +Men weighed?" + +"Weighing now, sir." + +"Ah, just as well I should see it done. Seen you before, Craggs. Saw you +fight your second battle against Willox. You had beaten him once, but he +came back on you. What does the indicator say?--one hundred and +sixty-three pounds--two off for the kit--one hundred and sixty-one. Now, +my lad, you jump. My goodness, what colours are you wearing?" + +"The Anonymi Cricket Club." + +"What right have you to wear them? I belong to the club myself." + +"So do I." + +"You an amateur?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And you are fighting for a money prize?" + +"Yes." + +"I suppose you know what you are doing? You realize that you're a +professional pug from this onwards, and that if ever you fight +again----" + +"I'll never fight again." + +"Happen you won't," said the woman, and the Master turned a terrible eye +upon her. + +"Well, I suppose you know your own business best. Up you jump. One +hundred and fifty-one, minus two, one hundred and forty-nine--twelve +pounds difference, but youth and condition on the other scale. Well, the +sooner we get to work the better, for I wish to catch the seven o'clock +express at Hellifield. Twenty three-minute rounds, with one-minute +intervals, and Queensberry rules. Those are the conditions, are they +not?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very good, then, we may go across." + +The two combatants had overcoats thrown over their shoulders, and the +whole party, backers, fighters, seconds, and the referee, filed out of +the room. A police inspector was waiting for them in the road. He had a +notebook in his hand--that terrible weapon which awes even the London +cabman. + +"I must take your names, gentlemen, in case it should be necessary to +proceed for breach of peace." + +"You don't mean to stop the fight?" cried Armitage, in a passion of +indignation. "I'm Mr. Armitage, of Croxley, and this is Mr. Wilson, and +we'll be responsible that all is fair and as it should be.' + +"I'll take the names in case it should be necessary to proceed," said +the inspector, impassively. + +"But you know me well." + +"If you was a dook or even a judge it would be all the same," said the +inspector. "It's the law, and there's an end. I'll not take upon myself +to stop the fight, seeing that gloves are to be used, but I'll take the +names of all concerned. Silas Craggs, Robert Montgomery, Edward Barton, +James Stapleton, of London. Who seconds Silas Craggs?" + +"I do," said the woman. "Yes, you can stare, but it's my job, and no one +else's. Anastasia's the name--four a's." + +"Craggs?" + +"Johnson. Anastasia Johnson. If you jug him, you can jug me." + +"Who talked of juggin', ye fool?" growled the Master. "Coom on, Mr. +Armitage, for I'm fair sick o' this loiterin'." + +The inspector fell in with the procession, and proceeded, as they walked +up the hill, to bargain in his official capacity for a front seat, where +he could safeguard the interests of the law, and in his private capacity +to lay out thirty shillings at seven to one with Mr. Armitage. Through +the door they passed, down a narrow lane walled with a dense bank of +humanity, up a wooden ladder to a platform, over a rope which was slung +waist-high from four corner-stakes, and then Montgomery realized that he +was in that ring in which his immediate destiny was to be worked out. On +the stake at one corner there hung a blue-and-white streamer. Barton led +him across, the overcoat dangling loosely from his shoulders, and he sat +down on a wooden stool. Barton and another man, both wearing white +sweaters, stood beside him. The so-called ring was a square, twenty feet +each way. At the opposite angle was the sinister figure of the Master, +with his red-headed woman and a rough-faced friend to look after him. At +each corner were metal basins, pitchers of water, and sponges. + +During the hubbub and uproar of the entrance Montgomery was too +bewildered to take things in. But now there was a few minutes' delay, +for the referee had lingered behind, and so he looked quietly about him. +It was a sight to haunt him for a lifetime. Wooden seats had been built +in, sloping upwards to the tops of the walls. Above, instead of a +ceiling, a great flight of crows passed slowly across a square of grey +cloud. Right up to the top-most benches the folk were banked--broadcloth +in front, corduroys and fustian behind; faces turned everywhere upon +him. The grey reek of the pipes filled the building, and the air was +pungent with the acrid smell of cheap, strong tobacco. Everywhere among +the human faces were to be seen the heads of the dogs. They growled and +yapped from the back benches. In that dense mass of humanity one could +hardly pick out individuals, but Montgomery's eyes caught the brazen +gleam of the helmets held upon the knees of the ten yeomen of his +escort. At the very edge of the platform sat the reporters, five of +them: three locals, and two all the way from London. But where was the +all-important referee? There was no sign of him, unless he were in the +centre of that angry swirl of men near the door. + +Mr. Stapleton had stopped to examine the gloves which were to be used, +and entered the building after the combatants. He had started to come +down that narrow lane with the human walls which led to the ring. But +already it had gone abroad that the Wilson champion was a gentleman, and +that another gentleman had been appointed as referee. A wave of +suspicion passed through the Croxley folk. They would have one of their +own people for a referee. They would not have a stranger. His path was +stopped as he made for the ring. Excited men flung themselves in front +of him; they waved their fists in his face and cursed him. A woman +howled vile names in his ear. Somebody struck at him with an umbrella. +"Go thou back to Lunnon. We want noan o' thee. Go thou back!" they +yelled. + +Stapleton, with his shiny hat cocked backwards, and his large, bulging +forehead swelling from under it, looked round him from beneath his bushy +brows. He was in the centre of a savage and dangerous mob. Then he drew +his watch from his pocket and held it dial upwards in his palm. + +"In three minutes," said he, "I will declare the fight off." + +They raged round him. His cool face and that aggressive top-hat +irritated them. Grimy hands were raised. But it was difficult, somehow, +to strike a man who was so absolutely indifferent. + +"In two minutes I declare the fight off." + +They exploded into blasphemy. The breath of angry men smoked into his +placid face. A gnarled, grimy fist vibrated at the end of his nose. "We +tell thee we want noan o' thee. Get thou back where thou com'st from." + +"In one minute I declare the fight off." + +Then the calm persistence of the man conquered the swaying, mutable, +passionate crowd. + +"Let him through, mon. Happen there'll be no fight after a'." + +"Let him through." + +"Bill, thou loomp, let him pass. Dost want the fight declared off?" + +"Make room for the referee!--room for the Lunnon referee!" + +And half pushed, half carried, he was swept up to the ring. There were +two chairs by the side of it, one for him and one for the timekeeper. He +sat down, his hands on his knees, his hat at a more wonderful angle than +ever, impassive but solemn, with the aspect of one who appreciates his +responsibilities. + +Mr. Armitage, the portly butcher, made his way into the ring and held up +two fat hands, sparkling with rings, as a signal for silence. + +"Gentlemen!" he yelled. And then in a crescendo shriek, "Gentlemen!" + +"And ladies!" cried somebody, for indeed there was a fair sprinkling of +women among the crowd. "Speak up, owd man!" shouted another. "What price +pork chops?" cried somebody at the back. Everybody laughed, and the dogs +began to bark. Armitage waved his hands amidst the uproar as if he were +conducting an orchestra. At last the babel thinned into silence. + +"Gentlemen," he yelled, "the match is between Silas Craggs, whom we call +the Master of Croxley, and Robert Montgomery, of the Wilson Coal-pits. +The match was to be under eleven-eight. When they were weighed just now +Craggs weighed eleven-seven, and Montgomery ten-nine. The conditions of +the contest are--the best of twenty three-minute rounds with two-ounce +gloves. Should the fight run to its full length it will, of course, be +decided upon points. Mr. Stapleton, the well-known London referee, has +kindly consented to see fair play. I wish to say that Mr. Wilson and I, +the chief backers of the two men, have every confidence in Mr. +Stapleton, and that we beg that you will accept his rulings without +dispute." + +He then turned from one combatant to the other, with a wave of his +hand. + + + + +III + + +"Montgomery--Craggs!" said he. + +A great hush fell over the huge assembly. Even the dogs stopped yapping; +one might have thought that the monstrous room was empty. The two men +had stood up, the small white gloves over their hands. They advanced +from their corners and shook hands: Montgomery, gravely, Craggs with a +smile. Then they fell into position. The crowd gave a long sigh--the +intake of a thousand excited breaths. The referee tilted his chair on to +its back legs, and looked moodily critical from the one to the other. + +It was strength against activity--that was evident from the first. The +Master stood stolidly upon his K-leg. It gave him a tremendous pedestal; +one could hardly imagine his being knocked down. And he could pivot +round upon it with extraordinary quickness; but his advance or retreat +was ungainly. His frame, however, was so much larger and broader than +that of the student, and his brown, massive face looked so resolute and +menacing, that the hearts of the Wilson party sank within them. There +was one heart, however, which had not done so. It was that of Robert +Montgomery. + +Any nervousness which he may have had completely passed away now that he +had his work before him. Here was something definite--this hard-faced, +deformed Hercules to beat, with a career as the price of beating him. He +glowed with the joy of action; it thrilled through his nerves. He faced +his man with little in-and-out steps, breaking to the left, breaking to +the right, feeling his way, while Craggs, with a dull, malignant eye, +pivoted slowly upon his weak leg, his left arm half extended, his right +sunk low across the mark. Montgomery led with his left, and then led +again, getting lightly home each time. He tried again, but the Master +had his counter ready, and Montgomery reeled back from a harder blow +than he had given. Anastasia, the woman, gave a shrill cry of +encouragement, and her man let fly his right. Montgomery ducked under +it, and in an instant the two were in each other's arms. + +"Break away! Break away!" said the referee. + +The Master struck upwards on the break, and shook Montgomery with the +blow. Then it was "time." It had been a spirited opening round. The +people buzzed into comment and applause. Montgomery was quite fresh, but +the hairy chest of the Master was rising and falling. The man passed a +sponge over his head, while Anastasia flapped the towel before him. +"Good lass! Good lass!" cried the crowd, and cheered her. + +The men were up again, the Master grimly watchful, Montgomery as alert +as a kitten. The Master tried a sudden rush, squattering along with his +awkward gait, but coming faster than one would think. The student +slipped aside and avoided him. The Master stopped, grinned, and shook +his head. Then he motioned with his hand as an invitation to Montgomery +to come to him. The student did so and led with his left, but got a +swinging right counter in the ribs in exchange. The heavy blow staggered +him, and the Master came scrambling in to complete his advantage; but +Montgomery, with his greater activity, kept out of danger until the call +of "time." A tame round, and the advantage with the Master. + +"T' Maister's too strong for him," said a smelter to his neighbour. + +"Ay; but t'other's a likely lad. Happen we'll see some sport yet. He can +joomp rarely." + +"But t' Maister can stop and hit rarely. Happen he'll mak' him joomp +when he gets his nief upon him." + +They were up again, the water glistening upon their faces. Montgomery +led instantly and got his right home with a sounding smack upon the +Master's forehead. There was a shout from the colliers, and "Silence! +Order!" from the referee. Montgomery avoided the counter and scored with +his left. Fresh applause, and the referee upon his feet in indignation. +"No comments, gentlemen, if _you_ please, during the rounds." + +"Just bide a bit!" growled the Master. + +"Don't talk--fight!" said the referee, angrily. + +Montgomery rubbed in the point by a flush hit upon the mouth, and the +Master shambled back to his corner like an angry bear, having had all +the worst of the round. + +"Where's thot seven to one?" shouted Purvis, the publican. "I'll take +six to one!" + +There were no answers. + +"Five to one!" There were givers at that. Purvis booked them in a +tattered notebook. + +Montgomery began to feel happy. He lay back with his legs outstretched, +his back against the corner-post, and one gloved hand upon each rope. +What a delicious minute it was between each round. If he could only keep +out of harm's way, he must surely wear this man out before the end of +twenty rounds. He was so slow that all his strength went for nothing. +"You're fightin' a winnin' fight--a winnin' fight," Ted Barton whispered +in his ear. "Go canny; tak' no chances; you have him proper." + +But the Master was crafty. He had fought so many battles with his maimed +limb that he knew how to make the best of it. Warily and slowly he +manoeuvred round Montgomery, stepping forward and yet again forward +until he had imperceptibly backed him into his corner. The student +suddenly saw a flash of triumph upon the grim face, and a gleam in the +dull, malignant eyes. The Master was upon him. He sprang aside and was +on the ropes. The Master smashed in one of his terrible upper-cuts, and +Montgomery half broke it with his guard. The student sprang the other +way and was against the other converging rope. He was trapped in the +angle. The Master sent in another, with a hoggish grunt which spoke of +the energy behind it. Montgomery ducked, but got a jab from the left +upon the mark. He closed with his man. "Break away! Break away?" cried +the referee. Montgomery disengaged, and got a swinging blow on the ear +as he did so. It had been a damaging round for him, and the Croxley +people were shouting their delight. + +"Gentlemen, I will _not_ have this noise!" Stapleton roared. "I have +been accustomed to preside at a well-conducted club, and not at a +bear-garden." This little man, with the tilted hat and the bulging +forehead, dominated the whole assembly. He was like a headmaster among +his boys. He glared round him, and nobody cared to meet his eye. + +Anastasia had kissed the Master when he resumed his seat. "Good lass. +Do't again!" cried the laughing crowd, and the angry Master shook his +glove at her, as she flapped her towel in front of him. Montgomery was +weary and a little sore, but not depressed. He had learned something. He +would not again be tempted into danger. + +For three rounds the honours were fairly equal. The student's hitting +was the quicker, the Master's the harder. Profiting by his lesson, +Montgomery kept himself in the open, and refused to be herded into a +corner. Sometimes the Master succeeded in rushing him to the side-ropes, +but the younger man slipped away, or closed and then disengaged. The +monotonous "Break away! Break away!" of the referee broke in upon the +quick, low patter of rubber-soled shoes, the dull thud of the blows, and +the sharp, hissing breath of two tired men. + +The ninth round found both of them in fairly good condition. +Montgomery's head was still singing from the blow that he had in the +corner, and one of his thumbs pained him acutely and seemed to be +dislocated. The Master showed no sign of a touch, but his breathing was +the more laboured, and a long line of ticks upon the referee's paper +showed that the student had a good show of points. But one of this +iron-man's blows was worth three of his, and he knew that without the +gloves he could not have stood for three rounds against him. All the +amateur work that he had done was the merest tapping and flapping when +compared to those frightful blows, from arms toughened by the shovel and +the crowbar. + +It was the tenth round, and the fight was half over. The betting now was +only three to one, for the Wilson champion had held his own much better +than had been expected. But those who knew the ringcraft as well as the +staying power of the old prize-fighter knew that the odds were still a +long way in his favour. + +"Have a care of him!" whispered Barton, as he sent his man up to the +scratch. "Have a care! He'll play thee a trick, if he can." + +But Montgomery saw, or imagined he saw, that his antagonist was tiring. +He looked jaded and listless, and his hands drooped a little from their +position. His own youth and condition were beginning to tell. He sprang +in and brought off a fine left-handed lead. The Master's return lacked +his usual fire. Again Montgomery led, and again he got home. Then he +tried his right upon the mark, and the Master guarded it downwards. + +"Too low! Too low! A foul! A foul!" yelled a thousand voices. + +The referee rolled his sardonic eyes slowly round. "Seems to me this +buildin' is chock-full of referees," said he. + +The people laughed and applauded, but their favour was as immaterial to +him as their anger. + +"No applause, please! This is not a theatre!" he yelled. + +Montgomery was very pleased with himself. His adversary was evidently in +a bad way. He was piling on his points and establishing a lead. He might +as well make hay while the sun shone. The Master was looking all abroad. +Montgomery popped one upon his blue jowl and got away without a return. +And then the Master suddenly dropped both his hands and began rubbing +his thigh. Ah! that was it, was it? He had muscular cramp. + +"Go in! Go in!" cried Teddy Barton. + +Montgomery sprang wildly forward, and the next instant was lying half +senseless, with his neck nearly broken, in the middle of the ring. + +The whole round had been a long conspiracy to tempt him within reach of +one of those terrible right-hand upper-cuts for which the Master was +famous. For this the listless, weary bearing, for this the cramp in the +thigh. When Montgomery had sprang in so hotly he had exposed himself to +such a blow as neither flesh nor blood could stand. Whizzing up from +below with a rigid arm, which put the Master's eleven stone into its +force, it struck him under the jaw: he whirled half round, and fell a +helpless and half-paralyzed mass. A vague groan and murmur, +inarticulate, too excited for words, rose from the great audience. With +open mouths and staring eyes they gazed at the twitching and quivering +figure. + +"Stand back! Stand right back!" shrieked the referee, for the Master was +standing over his man ready to give him the _coup-de-grâce_ as he rose. + +"Stand back, Craggs, this instant!" Stapleton repeated. + +The Master sank his hands sulkily and walked backwards to the rope with +his ferocious eyes fixed upon his fallen antagonist. The timekeeper +called the seconds. If ten of them passed before Montgomery rose to his +feet, the fight was ended. Ted Barton wrung his hands and danced about +in an agony in his corner. + +As if in a dream--a terrible nightmare--the student could hear the +voice of the timekeeper--three--four--five--he got up on his +hand--six--seven--he was on his knee, sick, swimming, faint, but +resolute to rise. Eight--he was up, and the Master was on him like a +tiger, lashing savagely at him with both hands. Folk held their breath +as they watched those terrible blows, and anticipated the pitiful +end--so much more pitiful where a game but helpless man refuses to +accept defeat. + +Strangely automatic is the human brain. Without volition, without +effort, there shot into the memory of this bewildered, staggering, +half-stupefied man the one thing which could have saved him--that blind +eye of which the Master's son had spoken. It was the same as the other +to look at, but Montgomery remembered that he had said that it was the +left. He reeled to the left side, half felled by a drive which lit upon +his shoulder. The Master pivoted round upon his leg and was at him in an +instant. + +"Yark him, lad! yark him!" screamed the woman. + +"Hold your tongue!" said the referee. + +Montgomery slipped to the left again and yet again; but the Master was +too quick and clever for him. He struck round and got him full on the +face as he tried once more to break away. Montgomery's knees weakened +under him, and he fell with a groan on the floor. This time he knew that +he was done. With bitter agony he realized, as he groped blindly with +his hands, that he could not possibly raise himself. Far away and +muffled he heard, amid the murmurs of the multitude, the fateful voice +of the timekeeper counting off the seconds. + +"One--two--three--four--five--six----" + +"Time!" said the referee. + +Then the pent-up passion of the great assembly broke loose. Croxley gave +a deep groan of disappointment. The Wilsons were on their feet, yelling +with delight. There was still a chance for them. In four more seconds +their man would have been solemnly counted out. But now he had a minute +in which to recover. The referee looked round with relaxed features and +laughing eyes. He loved this rough game, this school for humble heroes, +and it was pleasant to him to intervene as a _Deux ex machinâ_ at so +dramatic a moment. His chair and his hat were both tilted at an extreme +angle; he and the timekeeper smiled at each other. Ted Barton and the +other second had rushed out and thrust an arm each under Montgomery's +knee, the other behind his loins, and so carried him back to his stool. +His head lolled upon his shoulder, but a douche of cold water sent a +shiver through him, and he started and looked round him. + +"He's a' right!" cried the people round. "He's a rare brave lad. Good +lad! Good lad!" Barton poured some brandy into his mouth. The mists +cleared a little, and he realized where he was and what he had to do. +But he was still very weak, and he hardly dared to hope that he could +survive another round. + +"Seconds out of the ring!" cried the referee. "Time!" + +The Croxley Master sprang eagerly off his stool. + +"Keep clear of him! Go easy for a bit," said Barton, and Montgomery +walked out to meet his man once more. + +He had had two lessons--the one when the Master got him into his corner, +the other when he had been lured into mixing it up with so powerful an +antagonist. Now he would be wary. Another blow would finish him; he +could afford to run no risks. The Master was determined to follow up his +advantage, and rushed at him, slogging furiously right and left. But +Montgomery was too young and active to be caught. He was strong upon his +legs once more, and his wits had all come back to him. It was a gallant +sight--the line-of-battleship trying to pour its overwhelming broadside +into the frigate, and the frigate manoeuvring always so as to avoid it. +The Master tried all his ring-craft. He coaxed the student up by +pretended inactivity; he rushed at him with furious rushes towards the +ropes. For three rounds he exhausted every wile in trying to get at him. +Montgomery during all this time was conscious that his strength was +minute by minute coming back to him. The spinal jar from an upper-cut is +overwhelming, but evanescent. He was losing all sense of it beyond a +great stiffness of the neck. For the first round after his downfall he +had been content to be entirely on the defensive, only too happy if he +could stall off the furious attacks of the Master. In the second he +occasionally ventured upon a light counter. In the third he was smacking +back merrily where he saw an opening. His people yelled their approval +of him at the end of every round. Even the iron-workers cheered him with +that fine unselfishness which true sport engenders. To most of them, +unspiritual and unimaginative, the sight of this clean-limbed young +Apollo, rising above disaster and holding on while consciousness was in +him to his appointed task, was the greatest thing their experience had +ever known. + +But the Master's naturally morose temper became more and more murderous +at this postponement of his hopes. Three rounds ago the battle had been +in his hands; now it was all to do over again. Round by round his man +was recovering his strength. By the fifteenth he was strong again in +wind and limb. But the vigilant Anastasia saw something which encouraged +her. + +"That bash in t' ribs is telling on him, Jock," she whispered. "Why else +should he be gulping t' brandy? Go in, lad, and thou hast him yet." + +Montgomery had suddenly taken the flask from Barton's hand, and had a +deep pull at the contents. Then, with his face a little flushed, and +with a curious look of purpose, which made the referee stare hard at +him, in his eyes, he rose for the sixteenth round. + +"Game as a pairtridge!" cried the publican, as he looked at the hard-set +face. + +"Mix it oop, lad; mix it oop!" cried the iron-men to their Master. + +And then a hum of exultation ran through their ranks as they realized +that their tougher, harder, stronger man held the vantage, after all. + +Neither of the men showed much sign of punishment. Small gloves crush +and numb, but they do not cut. One of the Master's eyes was even more +flush with his cheek than Nature had made it. Montgomery had two or +three livid marks upon his body, and his face was haggard, save for that +pink spot which the brandy had brought into either cheek. He rocked a +little as he stood opposite his man, and his hands drooped as if he +felt the gloves to be an unutterable weight. It was evident that he was +spent and desperately weary. If he received one other blow it must +surely be fatal to him. If he brought one home, what power could there +be behind it, and what chance was there of its harming the colossus in +front of him? It was the crisis of the fight. This round must decide it. +"Mix it oop, lad; mix it oop!" the iron-men whooped. Even the savage +eyes of the referee were unable to restrain the excited crowd. + +Now, at last, the chance had come for Montgomery. He had learned a +lesson from his more experienced rival. Why should he not play his own +game upon him? He was spent, but not nearly so spent as he pretended. +That brandy was to call up his reserves, to let him have strength to +take full advantage of the opening when it came. It was thrilling and +tingling through his veins, at the very moment when he was lurching and +rocking like a beaten man. He acted his part admirably. The Master felt +that there was an easy task before him, and rushed in with ungainly +activity to finish it once for all. He slap-banged away left and right, +boring Montgomery up against the ropes, swinging in his ferocious blows +with those animal grunts which told of the vicious energy behind them. + +But Montgomery was too cool to fall a victim to any of those murderous +upper-cuts. He kept out of harm's way with a rigid guard, an active +foot, and a head which was swift to duck. And yet he contrived to +present the same appearance of a man who is hopelessly done. The Master, +weary from his own shower of blows, and fearing nothing from so weak a +man, dropped his hand for an instant, and at that instant Montgomery's +right came home. + +It was a magnificent blow, straight, clean, crisp, with the force of the +loins and the back behind it. And it landed where he had meant it +to--upon the exact point of that blue-grained chin. Flesh and blood +could not stand such a blow in such a place. Neither valour nor +hardihood can save the man to whom it comes. The Master fell backwards, +flat, prostrate, striking the ground with so simultaneous a clap that it +was like a shutter falling from a wall. A yell which no referee could +control broke from the crowded benches as the giant went down. He lay +upon his back, his knees a little drawn up, his huge chest panting. He +twitched and shook, but could not move. His feet pawed convulsively once +or twice. It was no use. He was done. "Eight--nine--ten!" said the +timekeeper, and the roar of a thousand voices, with a deafening clap +like the broadside of a ship, told that the Master of Croxley was the +Master no more. + +Montgomery stood half dazed, looking down at the huge, prostrate figure. +He could hardly realize that it was indeed all over. He saw the referee +motion towards him with his hand. He heard his name bellowed in triumph +from every side. And then he was aware of some one rushing towards him; +he caught a glimpse of a flushed face and an aureole of flying red hair, +a gloveless fist struck him between the eyes, and he was on his back in +the ring beside his antagonist, while a dozen of his supporters were +endeavouring to secure the frantic Anastasia. He heard the angry +shouting of the referee, the screaming of the furious woman, and the +cries of the mob. Then something seemed to break like an over-stretched +banjo-string, and he sank into the deep, deep, mist-girt abyss of +unconsciousness. + +The dressing was like a thing in a dream, and so was a vision of the +Master with the grin of a bulldog upon his face, and his three teeth +amiably protruded. He shook Montgomery heartily by the hand. + +"I would have been rare pleased to shake thee by the throttle, lad, a +short while syne," said he. "But I bear no ill-feelin' again' thee. It +was a rare poonch that brought me down--I have not had a better since my +second fight wi' Billy Edwards in '89. Happen thou might think o' goin' +further wi' this business. If thou dost, and want a trainer, there's not +much inside t' ropes as I don't know. Or happen thou might like to try +it wi' me old style and bare knuckles. Thou hast but to write to t' +iron-works to find me." + +But Montgomery disclaimed any such ambition. A canvas bag with his +share--one hundred and ninety sovereigns--was handed to him, of which he +gave ten to the Master, who also received some share of the gate-money. + +Then, with young Wilson escorting him on one side, Purvis on the other, +and Fawcett carrying his bag behind, he went in triumph to his carriage, +and drove amid a long roar, which lined the highway like a hedge for the +seven miles, back to his starting-point. + +"It's the greatest thing I ever saw in my life. By George, it's +ripping!" cried Wilson, who had been left in a kind of ecstasy by the +events of the day. "There's a chap over Barnsley way who fancies himself +a bit. Let us spring you on him, and let him see what he can make of +you. We'll put up a purse--won't we, Purvis? You shall never want a +backer." + +"At his weight," said the publican, "I'm behind him, I am, for twenty +rounds, and no age, country, or color barred." + +"So am I!" cried Fawcett; "middle-weight champion of the world, that's +what he is--here, in the same carriage with us." + +But Montgomery was not to be beguiled. + +"No; I have my own work to do now." + +"And what may that be?" + +"I'll use this money to get my medical degree." + +"Well, we've plenty of doctors, but you're the only man in the Riding +that could smack the Croxley Master off his legs. However, I suppose you +know your own business best. When you're a doctor, you'd best come down +into these parts, and you'll always find a job waiting for you at the +Wilson Coal-pits." + +Montgomery had returned by devious ways to the surgery. The horses were +smoking at the door, and the doctor was just back from his long journey. +Several patients had called in his absence, and he was in the worst of +tempers. + +"I suppose I should be glad that you have come back at all, Mr. +Montgomery!" he snarled. "When next you elect to take a holiday, I +trust, it will not be at so busy a time." + +"I am sorry, sir, that you should have been inconvenienced." + +"Yes, sir, I have been exceedingly inconvenienced." Here, for the first +time, he looked hard at the assistant. "Good heavens, Mr. Montgomery, +what have you been doing with your left eye?" + +It was where Anastasia had lodged her protest. + +Montgomery laughed. "It is nothing, sir," said he. + +"And you have a livid mark under your jaw. It is, indeed, terrible that +my representative should be going about in so disreputable a condition. +How did you receive these injuries?" + +"Well, sir, as you know, there was a little glove-fight to-day over at +Croxley." + +"And you got mixed up with that brutal crowd?" + +"I _was_ rather mixed up with them." + +"And who assaulted you?" + +"One of the fighters." + +"Which of them?" + +"The Master of Croxley." + +"Good heavens! Perhaps you interfered with him?" + +"Well, to tell the truth, I did a little." + +"Mr. Montgomery, in such a practice as mine, intimately associated as it +is with the highest and most progressive elements of our small +community, it is impossible----" + +But just then the tentative bray of a cornet-player searching for his +keynote jarred upon their ears, and an instant later the Wilson Colliery +brass band was in full cry with, "See the Conquering Hero Comes," +outside the surgery window. There was a banner waving, and a shouting +crowd of miners. + +"What is it? What does it mean?" cried the angry doctor. + +"It means, sir, that I have, in the only way which was open to me, +earned the money which is necessary for my education. It is my duty, +Doctor Oldacre, to warn you that I am about to return to the University, +and that you should lose no time in appointing my successor." + +THE END + + + * * * * * + + + Transcriber Notes: + + page 44 Original: "Montgomery looked askance + + Replaced: Montgomery looked askance + + + Unchanged: + + page 60 Original: "Break away! Break away?" cried the referee. + + retained the ?, perhaps ! intended. + + page 66 a _Deux ex machinâ_ at so dramatic a moment. + perhaps intended Deus - left as clearly printed + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Croxley Master: A Great Tale Of +The Prize Ring, by Arthur Conan Doyle + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CROXLEY MASTER: A GREAT *** + +***** This file should be named 38443-8.txt or 38443-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/4/4/38443/ + +Produced by Gerard Arthus, Dianna Adair and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from scans of public domain material +produced by Microsoft for their Live Search Books site.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/38443-8.zip b/38443-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b1e40dd --- /dev/null +++ b/38443-8.zip diff --git a/38443-h.zip b/38443-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..16e7a6e --- /dev/null +++ b/38443-h.zip diff --git a/38443-h/38443-h.htm b/38443-h/38443-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d07e2f6 --- /dev/null +++ b/38443-h/38443-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3054 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Croxley Master, by A. Conan Doyle - A Project Gutenberg eBook. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + hr.r15 {width: 15%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + hr.r65 {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + .extraspacetop {padding-top: 2em; } + .extraspace3top {padding-top: 3em; } + .extraspacebot {padding-bottom: 2em; } + .extraspace3bot {padding-bottom: 3em; } + .blockquotetn {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .cap:first-letter {float: left; clear: left; margin: -0.2em 0.1em 0; margin-top: 0%; + padding: 0; line-height: .75em; font-size: 300%; text-align: justify;} + .bolded {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Croxley Master: A Great Tale Of The +Prize Ring, by Arthur Conan Doyle + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Croxley Master: A Great Tale Of The Prize Ring + +Author: Arthur Conan Doyle + +Release Date: December 30, 2011 [EBook #38443] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CROXLEY MASTER: A GREAT *** + + + + +Produced by Gerard Arthus, Dianna Adair and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from scans of public domain material +produced by Microsoft for their Live Search Books site.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter extraspace3bot"> +<img src="images/cover2a.jpg" width="300" height="486" alt="Cover" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter extraspace3bot extraspace3top"> +<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="450" height="692" alt="The Fighter in the Ring" title="" /> +</div> + + +<h1>THE CROXLEY MASTER</h1> + +<h2>A GREAT TALE OF THE PRIZE RING<br /> + +<small>BY</small><br /> + +A. CONAN DOYLE</h2> + +<div class="figcenter extraspace3top"> +<img src="images/002.png" width="75" height="98" alt="Printer Decoration" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="center extraspace3top extraspacebot">NEW YORK +McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO. +MCMVII +</p> + +<p class="center extraspacebot"> +<i>Copyright, 1907, by McClure, Phillips & Co.</i><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="r65" /> +<h1><i>THE CROXLEY MASTER</i></h1> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<h2>I</h2> + +<p class="cap">MR. ROBERT MONTGOMERY was +seated at his desk, his head upon his +hands, in a state of the blackest despondency. +Before him was the open ledger with the long +columns of Dr. Oldacre's prescriptions. At +his elbow lay the wooden tray with the labels +in various partitions, the cork box, the lumps +of twisted sealing-wax, while in front a rank of +empty bottles waited to be filled. But his spirits +were too low for work. He sat in silence, with +his fine shoulders bowed and his head upon his +hands.</p> + +<p>Outside, through the grimy surgery window +over a foreground of blackened brick and slate, +a line of enormous chimneys like Cyclopean +pillars upheld the lowering, dun-coloured cloud-bank. +For six days in the week they spouted +smoke, but to-day the furnace fires were banked, +for it was Sunday. Sordid and polluting gloom +hung over a district blighted and blasted by the +greed of man. There was nothing in the surroundings<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +to cheer a desponding soul, but it +was more than his dismal environment which +weighed upon the medical assistant.</p> + +<p>His trouble was deeper and more personal. +The winter session was approaching. He should +be back again at the University completing the +last year which would give him his medical degree; +but alas! he had not the money with which +to pay his class fees, nor could he imagine how he +could procure it. Sixty pounds were wanted to +make his career, and it might have been as +many thousands for any chance there seemed to +be of his obtaining it.</p> + +<p>He was roused from his black meditation by +the entrance of Dr. Oldacre himself, a large, +clean-shaven, respectable man, with a prim +manner and an austere face. He had prospered +exceedingly by the support of the local +Church interest, and the rule of his life was +never by word or action to run a risk of offending +the sentiment which had made him. His +standard of respectability and of dignity was +exceedingly high, and he expected the same +from his assistants. His appearance and words +were always vaguely benevolent. A sudden +impulse came over the despondent student. +He would test the reality of this philanthropy.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, Dr. Oldacre," said he, +rising from his chair; "I have a great favour +to ask of you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> + +<p>The doctor's appearance was not encouraging. +His mouth suddenly tightened, and his +eyes fell.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Montgomery?"</p> + +<p>"You are aware, sir, that I need only one +more session to complete my course."</p> + +<p>"So you have told me."</p> + +<p>"It is very important to me, sir."</p> + +<p>"Naturally."</p> + +<p>"The fees, Dr. Oldacre, would amount to +about sixty pounds."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid that my duties call me elsewhere, +Mr. Montgomery."</p> + +<p>"One moment, sir! I had hoped, sir, that +perhaps, if I signed a paper promising you interest +upon your money, you would advance +this sum to me. I will pay you back, sir, I +really will. Or, if you like, I will work it off +after I am qualified."</p> + +<p>The doctor's lips had thinned into a narrow +line. His eyes were raised again, and sparkled +indignantly.</p> + +<p>"Your request is unreasonable, Mr. Montgomery. +I am surprised that you should have +made it. Consider, sir, how many thousands +of medical students there are in this country. +No doubt there are many of them who have a +difficulty in finding their fees. Am I to provide +for them all? Or why should I make an +exception in your favour? I am grieved and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +disappointed, Mr. Montgomery, that you +should have put me into the painful position of +having to refuse you." He turned upon his +heel, and walked with offended dignity out of +the surgery.</p> + +<p>The student smiled bitterly, and turned to +his work of making up the morning prescriptions. +It was poor and unworthy work—work +which any weakling might have done as well, +and this was a man of exceptional nerve and +sinew. But, such as it was, it brought him his +board and £1 a week, enough to help him +during the summer months and let him save a +few pounds towards his winter keep. But +those class fees! Where were they to come +from? He could not save them out of his +scanty wage. Dr. Oldacre would not advance +them. He saw no way of earning them. His +brains were fairly good, but brains of that +quality were a drug in the market. He +only excelled in his strength; and where was +he to find a customer for that? But the +ways of Fate are strange, and his customer was +at hand.</p> + +<p>"Look y'ere!" said a voice at the door.</p> + +<p>Montgomery looked up, for the voice was a +loud and rasping one. A young man stood at the +entrance—a stocky, bull-necked young miner, +in tweed Sunday clothes and an aggressive +necktie. He was a sinister-looking figure, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +dark, insolent eyes, and the jaw and throat of a +bulldog.</p> + +<p>"Look y'ere!" said he again. "Why hast +thou not sent t' medicine oop as thy master ordered?"</p> + +<p>Montgomery had become accustomed to the +brutal frankness of the Northern worker. At +first it had enraged him, but after a time he had +grown callous to it, and accepted it as it was +meant. But this was something different. It +was insolence—brutal, overbearing insolence, +with physical menace behind it.</p> + +<p>"What name?" he asked coldly.</p> + +<p>"Barton. Happen I may give thee cause to +mind that name, yoong man. Mak' oop t' +wife's medicine this very moment, look ye, or +it will be the worse for thee."</p> + +<p>Montgomery smiled. A pleasant sense of +relief thrilled softly through him. What blessed +safety-valve was this through which his jangled +nerves might find some outlet. The provocation +was so gross, the insult so unprovoked, +that he could have none of those qualms which +take the edge off a man's mettle. He finished +sealing the bottle upon which he was occupied, +and he addressed it and placed it carefully in the +rack.</p> + +<p>"Look here!" said he turning round to the +miner, "your medicine will be made up in its +turn and sent down to you. I don't allow folk<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +in the surgery. Wait outside in the waiting-room, +if you wish to wait at all."</p> + +<p>"Yoong man," said the miner, "thou's got +to mak' t' wife's medicine here, and now, and +quick, while I wait and watch thee, or else happen +thou might need some medicine thysel' before +all is over."</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't advise you to fasten a quarrel +upon me." Montgomery was speaking in the +hard, staccato voice of a man who is holding +himself in with difficulty. "You'll save +trouble if you'll go quietly. If you don't +you'll be hurt. Ah, you would? Take it, +then!"</p> + +<p>The blows were almost simultaneous—a savage +swing which whistled past Montgomery's +ear, and a straight drive which took the workman +on the chin. Luck was with the assistant. +That single whizzing uppercut, and the +way in which it was delivered, warned him that +he had a formidable man to deal with. But if +he had underrated his antagonist, his antagonist +had also underrated him, and had laid himself +open to a fatal blow.</p> + +<p>The miner's head had come with a crash +against the corner of the surgery shelves, and +he had dropped heavily onto the ground. There +he lay with his bandy legs drawn up and his +hands thrown abroad, the blood trickling over +the surgery tiles.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Had enough?" asked the assistant, breathing +fiercely through his nose.</p> + +<p>But no answer came. The man was insensible. +And then the danger of his position came +upon Montgomery, and he turned as white as +his antagonist. A Sunday, the immaculate Dr. +Oldacre with his pious connection, a savage +brawl with a patient; he would irretrievably lose +his situation if the facts came out. It was not +much of a situation, but he could not get another +without a reference, and Oldacre might +refuse him one. Without money for his classes, +and without a situation—what was to become of +him? It was absolute ruin.</p> + +<p>But perhaps he could escape exposure after +all. He seized his insensible adversary, dragged +him out into the centre of the room, loosened +his collar, and squeezed the surgery sponge +over his face. He sat up at last with a gasp +and a scowl.</p> + +<p>"Domn thee, thou's spoilt my necktie," said +he, mopping up the water from his breast.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry I hit you so hard," said Montgomery, +apologetically.</p> + +<p>"Thou hit me hard! I could stan' such fly-flappin' +all day. 'Twas this here press that +cracked my pate for me, and thou art a looky +man to be able to boast as thou hast outed me. +And now I'd be obliged to thee if thou wilt give +me t' wife's medicine."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> + +<p>Montgomery gladly made it up and handed +it to the miner.</p> + +<p>"You are weak still," said he. "Won't you +stay awhile and rest?"</p> + +<p>"T' wife wants her medicine," said the man, +and lurched out at the door.</p> + +<p>The assistant, looking after him, saw him +rolling with an uncertain step down the street, +until a friend met him, and they walked on +arm-in-arm. The man seemed in his rough +Northern fashion to bear no grudge, and +so Montgomery's fears left him. There was +no reason why the doctor should know anything +about it. He wiped the blood from +the floor, put the surgery in order, and went +on with his interrupted task, hoping that he +had come scathless out of a very dangerous +business.</p> + +<p>Yet all day he was aware of a sense of vague +uneasiness, which sharpened into dismay when, +late in the afternoon, he was informed that three +gentlemen had called and were waiting for him +in the surgery. A coroner's inquest, a descent +of detectives, an invasion of angry relatives—all +sorts of possibilities rose to scare him. With +tense nerves and a rigid face he went to meet +his visitors.</p> + +<p>They were a very singular trio. Each was +known to him by sight; but what on earth the +three could be doing together, and, above all,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +what they could expect from <i>him</i>, was a most +inexplicable problem.</p> + +<p>The first was Sorley Wilson, the son of the +owner of the Nonpareil Coalpit. He was a +young blood of twenty, heir to a fortune, a +keen sportsman, and down for the Easter Vacation +from Magdalene College. He sat +now upon the edge of the surgery table, looking +in thoughtful silence at Montgomery, and +twisting the ends of his small, black, waxed +moustache.</p> + +<p>The second was Purvis, the publican, owner +of the chief beershop, and well known as the +local bookmaker. He was a coarse, clean-shaven +man, whose fiery face made a singular contrast +with his ivory-white bald head. He had shrewd, +light-blue eyes with foxy lashes, and he also +leaned forward in silence from his chair, a fat, +red hand upon either knee, and stared critically +at the young assistant.</p> + +<p>So did the third visitor, Fawcett, the horsebreaker, +who leaned back, his long, thin legs, +with their box-cloth riding-gaiters, thrust out in +front of him, tapping his protruding teeth with +his riding-whip, with anxious thought in every +line of his rugged, bony face. Publican, exquisite, +and horsebreaker were all three equally +silent, equally earnest, and equally critical. +Montgomery, seated in the midst of them, +looked from one to the other.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, gentlemen?" he observed, but no +answer came.</p> + +<p>The position was embarrassing.</p> + +<p>"No," said the horsebreaker, at last. "No. +It's off. It's nowt."</p> + +<p>"Stand oop, lad; let's see thee standin'." It +was the publican who spoke.</p> + +<p>Montgomery obeyed. He would learn all +about it, no doubt, if he were patient. He stood +up and turned slowly round, as if in front of +his tailor.</p> + +<p>"It's off! It's off!" cried the horsebreaker. +"Why, mon, the Master would break him over +his knee."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that behanged for a yarn!" said the +young Cantab. "You can drop out if you like, +Fawcett, but I'll see this thing through, if I +have to do it alone. I don't hedge a penny. I +like the cut of him a great deal better than I +liked Ted Barton."</p> + +<p>"Look at Barton's shoulders, Mr. Wilson."</p> + +<p>"Lumpiness isn't always strength. Give me +nerve and fire and breed. That's what wins."</p> + +<p>"Ay, sir, you have it theer—you have it +theer!" said the fat, red-faced publican, in a +thick, suety voice. "It's the same wi' poops. +Get 'em clean-bred an' fine, and they'll yark the +thick 'uns—yark 'em out o' their skins."</p> + +<p>"He's ten good pund on the light side," +growled the horsebreaker.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He's a welter weight, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"A hundred and thirty."</p> + +<p>"A hundred and fifty, if he's an ounce."</p> + +<p>"Well, the master doesn't scale much more +than that."</p> + +<p>"A hundred and seventy-five."</p> + +<p>"That was when he was hog-fat and living +high. Work the grease out of him, and I lay +there's no great difference between them. Have +you been weighed lately, Mr. Montgomery?"</p> + +<p>It was the first direct question which had +been asked him. He had stood in the midst +of them, like a horse at a fair, and he was just +beginning to wonder whether he was more +angry or amused.</p> + +<p>"I am just eleven stone," said he.</p> + +<p>"I said that he was a welter weight."</p> + +<p>"But suppose you was trained?" said the +publican. "Wot then?"</p> + +<p>"I am always in training."</p> + +<p>"In a manner of speakin', do doubt, he <i>is</i> +always in trainin'," remarked the horsebreaker. +"But trainin' for everyday work ain't the same +as trainin' with a trainer; and I dare bet, with +all respec' to your opinion, Mr. Wilson, that +there's half a stone of tallow on him at this +minute."</p> + +<p>The young Cantab put his fingers on the +assistant's upper arm. Then with his other +hand on his wrist he bent the forearm sharply,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +and felt the biceps, as round and hard as a +cricket-ball, spring up under his fingers.</p> + +<p>"Feel that!" said he.</p> + +<p>The publican and horsebreaker felt it with +an air of reverence.</p> + +<p>"Good lad! He'll do yet!" cried Purvis.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," said Montgomery," I think +that you will acknowledge that I have been +very patient with you. I have listened to all +that you have to say about my personal appearance, +and now I must really beg that you +will have the goodness to tell me what is the +matter."</p> + +<p>They all sat down in their serious, businesslike +way.</p> + +<p>"That's easy done, Mr. Montgomery," said +the fat-voiced publican. "But before sayin' +anything, we had to wait and see whether, in a +way of speakin', there was any need for us to +say anything at all. Mr. Wilson thinks there is. +Mr. Fawcett, who has the same right to his +opinion, bein' also a backer and one o' the +committee, thinks the other way."</p> + +<p>"I thought him too light built, and I think +so now," said the horsebreaker, still tapping +his prominent teeth with the metal head of his +riding-whip. "But happen he may pull +through; and he's a fine-made, buirdly young +chap, so if you mean to back him, Mr. Wilson——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Which I do."</p> + +<p>"And you, Purvis?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't one to go back, Fawcett."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll stan' to my share of the purse."</p> + +<p>"And well I knew you would," said Purvis, +"for it would be somethin' new to find Isaac +Fawcett as a spoil-sport. Well, then, we make +up the hundred for the stake among us, and the +fight stands—always supposin' the young man +is willin'."</p> + +<p>"Excuse all this rot, Mr. Montgomery," +said the University man, in a genial voice. +"We've begun at the wrong end, I know, but +we'll soon straighten it out, and I hope that +you will see your way to falling in with our +views. In the first place, you remember the +man whom you knocked out this morning? +He is Barton—the famous Ted Barton."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure, sir, you may well be proud to +have outed him in one round," said the publican. +"Why, it took Morris, the ten-stone-six +champion, a deal more trouble than that before +he put Barton to sleep. You've done a fine +performance, sir, and happen you'll do a finer, +if you give yourself the chance."</p> + +<p>"I never heard of Ted Barton, beyond seeing +the name on a medicine label," said the assistant.</p> + +<p>"Well, you may take it from me that he's a +slaughterer," said the horsebreaker. "You've<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +taught him a lesson that he needed, for it was +always a word and a blow with him, and the +word alone was worth five shillin' in a public +court. He won't be so ready now to shake +his nief in the face of everyone he meets. +However, that's neither here nor there."</p> + +<p>Montgomery looked at them in bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"For goodness sake, gentlemen, tell me what +it is you want me to do!" he cried.</p> + +<p>"We want you to fight Silas Craggs, better +known as the Master of Croxley."</p> + +<p>"But why?"</p> + +<p>"Because Ted Barton was to have fought +him next Saturday. He was the champion of +the Wilson coal-pits, and the other was the +Master of the iron-folk down at the Croxley +smelters. We'd matched our man for a purse +of a hundred against the Master. But you've +queered our man, and he can't face such a battle +with a two-inch cut at the back of his head. +There's only one thing to be done, sir, and that +is for you to take his place. If you can lick +Ted Barton you may lick the Master of Croxley; +but if you don't we're done, for there's no +one else who is in the same street with him +in this district. It's twenty rounds, two-ounce +gloves, Queensberry rules, and a decision on +points if you fight to the finish."</p> + +<p>For a moment the absurdity of the thing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +drove every other thought out of Montgomery's +head. But then there came a sudden revulsion. +A hundred pounds!—all he wanted to complete +his education was lying there ready to his +hand, if only that hand were strong enough to +pick it up. He had thought bitterly that +morning that there was no market for his +strength, but here was one where his muscle +might earn more in an hour than his brains in a +year. But a chill of doubt came over him.</p> + +<p>"How can I fight for the coal-pits?" said +he. "I am not connected with them."</p> + +<p>"Eh, lad, but thou art!" cried old Purvis. +"We've got it down in writin', and it's clear +enough. 'Any one connected with the coal-pits.' +Doctor Oldacre is the coal-pit club doctor; +thou art his assistant. What more can +they want?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's right enough," said the Cantab. +"It would be a very sporting thing of you, Mr. +Montgomery, if you would come to our help +when we are in such a hole. Of course, you +might not like to take the hundred pounds; +but I have no doubt that, in the case of your +winning, we could arrange that it should take +the form of a watch or piece of plate, or any +other shape which might suggest itself to you. +You see, you are responsible for our having +lost our champion, so we really feel that we +have a claim upon you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Give me a moment, gentlemen. It is very +unexpected. I am afraid the doctor would never +consent to my going—in fact, I am sure that +he would not."</p> + +<p>"But he need never know—not before the +fight, at any rate. We are not bound to give +the name of our man. So long as he is within +the weight limits on the day of the fight, that is +all that concerns any one."</p> + +<p>The adventure and the profit would either of +them have attracted Montgomery. The two +combined were irresistible.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," said he, "I'll do it!"</p> + +<p>The three sprang from their seats. The +publican had seized his right hand, the horse-dealer +his left, and the Cantab slapped him on +the back.</p> + +<p>"Good lad! good lad!" croaked the publican. +"Eh, mon, but if thou yark him, thou'll +rise in one day from being just a common doctor +to the best-known mon 'twixt here and +Bradford. Thou art a witherin' tyke, thou art, +and no mistake; and if thou beat the Master +of Croxley, thou'll find all the beer thou want +for the rest of thy life waiting for thee at the +Four Sacks."</p> + +<p>"It is the most sporting thing I ever heard +of in my life," said young Wilson. "By +George, sir, if you pull it off, you've got the +constituency in your pocket, if you care to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +stand. You know the outhouse in my garden?"</p> + +<p>"Next the road?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly. I turned it into a gymnasium +for Ted Barton. You'll find all you want +there: clubs, punching ball, bars, dumb-bells, +everything. Then you'll want a sparring partner. +Ogilvy has been acting for Barton, but +we don't think that he is class enough. Barton +bears you no grudge. He's a good-hearted +fellow, though cross-grained with strangers. +He looked upon you as a stranger this morning, +but he says he knows you now. He is +quite ready to spar with you for practice, and +he will come at any hour you will name."</p> + +<p>"Thank you; I will let you know the hour," +said Montgomery; and so the committee departed +jubilant upon their way.</p> + +<p>The medical assistant sat for a little time in +the surgery turning it over in his mind. He +had been trained originally at the University by +the man who had been middle-weight champion +in his day. It was true that his teacher was +long past his prime, slow upon his feet and +stiff in his joints, but even so he was still a +tough antagonist; but Montgomery had found +at last that he could more than hold his own +with him. He had won the University medal, +and his teacher, who had trained so many students, +was emphatic in his opinion that he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +never had one who was in the same class with +him. He had been exhorted to go in for the +Amateur Championships, but he had no particular +ambition in that direction. Once he had +put on the gloves with Hammer Tunstall in +a booth at a fair, and had fought three rattling +rounds, in which he had the worst of it, but +had made the prize-fighter stretch himself to +the uttermost. There was his whole record, and +was it enough to encourage him to stand up to +the Master of Croxley? He had never heard of +the Master before, but then he had lost touch +of the ring during the last few years of hard +work. After all, what did it matter? If he +won, there was the money, which meant so +much to him. If he lost, it would only mean +a thrashing. He could take punishment without +flinching, of that he was certain. If there +were only one chance in a hundred of pulling +it off, then it was worth his while to attempt it.</p> + +<p>Dr. Oldacre, new come from church, with an +ostentatious Prayer-book in his kid-gloved +hand, broke in upon his meditation.</p> + +<p>"You don't go to service, I observe, Mr. +Montgomery," said he, coldly.</p> + +<p>"No, sir; I have had some business to detain +me."</p> + +<p>"It is very near to my heart that my household +should set a good example. There are so +few educated people in this district that a great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +responsibility devolves upon us. If we do not +live up to the highest, how can we expect these +poor workers to do so? It is a dreadful thing +to reflect that the parish takes a great deal more +interest in an approaching glove-fight than in +their religious duties."</p> + +<p>"A glove-fight, sir?" said Montgomery, +guiltily.</p> + +<p>"I believe that to be the correct term. One +of my patients tells me that it is the talk of the +district. A local ruffian, a patient of ours, by +the way, is matched against a pugilist over at +Croxley. I cannot understand why the law does +not step in and stop so degrading an exhibition. +It is really a prize-fight."</p> + +<p>"A glove fight, you said."</p> + +<p>"I am informed that a two-ounce glove is +an evasion by which they dodge the law, and +make it difficult for the police to interfere. +They contend for a sum of money. It seems +dreadful and almost incredible—does it not?—to +think that such scenes can be enacted within +a few miles of our peaceful home. But you +will realize, Mr. Montgomery, that while there +are such influences for us to counteract, it is +very necessary that we should live up to our +highest."</p> + +<p>The doctor's sermon would have had more effect +if the assistant had not once or twice had +occasion to test his highest and come upon it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +at unexpectedly humble elevations. It is always +so particularly easy to "compound for +sins we're most inclined to by damning those +we have no mind to." In any case, Montgomery +felt that of all the men concerned in such a +fight—promoters, backers, spectators—it is the +actual fighter who holds the strongest and most +honourable position. His conscience gave him +no concern upon the subject. Endurance and +courage are virtues, not vices, and brutality is, +at least, better than effeminacy.</p> + +<p>There was a little tobacco-shop at the corner +of the street, where Montgomery got his bird's-eye +and also his local information, for the shopman +was a garrulous soul, who knew everything +about the affairs of the district. The +assistant strolled down there after tea and +asked, in a casual way, whether the tobacconist +had ever heard of the Master of Croxley.</p> + +<p>"Heard of him! Heard of him!" the +little man could hardly articulate in his astonishment. +"Why, sir, he's the first mon o' the +district, an' his name's as well known in the +West Riding as the winner o' t' Derby. But +Lor', sir"—here he stopped and rummaged +among a heap of papers. "They are makin' a +fuss about him on account o' his fight wi' Ted +Barton, and so the <i>Croxley Herald</i> has his life +an' record, an' here it is, an' thou canst read it +for thysel'."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> + +<p>The sheet of the paper which he held up was a +lake of print around an islet of illustration. +The latter was a coarse wood-cut of a pugilist's +head and neck set in a cross-barred jersey. It +was a sinister but powerful face, the face of a +debauched hero, clean-shaven, strongly eyebrowed, +keen-eyed, with a huge aggressive jaw +and an animal dewlap beneath it. The long, +obstinate cheeks ran flush up to the narrow, +sinister eyes. The mighty neck came down +square from the ears and curved outwards into +shoulders, which had lost nothing at the hands +of the local artist. Above was written "Silas +Craggs," and beneath, "The Master of Croxley."</p> + +<p>"Thou'll find all about him there, sir," said +the tobacconist. "He's a witherin' tyke, he +is, and we're proud to have him in the county. +If he hadn't broke his leg he'd have been +champion of England."</p> + +<p>"Broke his leg, has he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and it set badly. They ca' him owd +K behind his bock, for thot is how his two +legs look. But his arms—well, if they was +both stropped to a bench, as the sayin' is, I +wonder where the champion of England would +be then."</p> + +<p>"I'll take this with me," said Montgomery; +and putting the paper into his pocket he returned +home.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was not a cheering record which he read +there. The whole history of the Croxley +Master was given in full, his many victories, +his few defeats.</p> + +<p>"Born in 1857," said the provincial biographer, +"Silas Craggs, better known in sporting +circles as The Master of Croxley, is now +in his fortieth year."</p> + +<p>"Hang it, I'm only twenty-three," said +Montgomery to himself, and read on more +cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Having in his youth shown a surprising +aptitude for the game, he fought his way up +among his comrades, until he became the +recognized champion of the district and won +the proud title which he still holds. Ambitious +of a more than local fame, he secured a patron, +and fought his first fight against Jack Barton, +of Birmingham, in May, 1880, at the old +Loiterers' Club. Craggs, who fought at ten-stone-two +at the time, had the better of fifteen +rattling rounds, and gained an award on points +against the Midlander. Having disposed of +James Dunn, of Rotherhithe, Cameron, of +Glasgow, and a youth named Fernie, he was +thought so highly of by the fancy that he was +matched against Ernest Willox, at that time +middle-weight champion of the North of England, +and defeated him in a hard-fought battle, +knocking him out in the tenth round after a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +punishing contest. At this period it looked as +if the very highest honours of the ring were +within the reach of the young Yorkshireman, +but he was laid upon the shelf by a most unfortunate +accident. The kick of a horse broke +his thigh, and for a year he was compelled to +rest himself. When he returned to his work +the fracture had set badly, and his activity was +much impaired. It was owing to this that he +was defeated in seven rounds by Willox, the +man whom he had previously beaten, and afterwards +by James Shaw, of London, though the +latter acknowledged that he had found the +toughest customer of his career. Undismayed +by his reverses, the Master adapted the style +of his fighting to his physical disabilities and +resumed his career of victory—defeating Norton +(the black), Bobby Wilson, and Levy Cohen, +the latter a heavy-weight. Conceding two +stone, he fought a draw with the famous Billy +McQuire, and afterwards, for a purse of fifty +pounds, he defeated Sam Hare at the Pelican +Club, London. In 1891 a decision was given +against him upon a foul when fighting a winning +fight against Jim Taylor, the Australian middle-weight, +and so mortified was he by the decision, +that he withdrew from the ring. Since then +he has hardly fought at all save to accommodate +any local aspirant who may wish to learn the +difference between a bar-room scramble and a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +scientific contest. The latest of these ambitious +souls comes from the Wilson coal-pits, which +have undertaken to put up a stake of £100 +and back their local champion. There are +various rumours afloat as to who their representative +is to be, the name of Ted Barton being +freely mentioned; but the betting, which is +seven to one on the Master against any untried +man, is a fair reflection of the feeling of the +community."</p> + +<p>Montgomery read it over twice, and it left +him with a very serious face. No light matter +this which he had undertaken; no battle with a +rough-and-tumble fighter who presumed upon +a local reputation. The man's record showed +that he was first-class—or nearly so. There +were a few points in his favour, and he must +make the most of them. There was age—twenty-three +against forty. There was an old +ring proverb that "Youth will be served," but +the annals of the ring offer a great number of +exceptions. A hard veteran, full of cool valour +and ring-craft, could give ten or fifteen years +and a beating to most striplings. He could not +rely too much upon his advantage in age. But +then there was the lameness; that must surely +count for a great deal. And, lastly, there was +the chance that the Master might underrate his +opponent, that he might be remiss in his training, +and refuse to abandon his usual way of life,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +if he thought that he had an easy task before +him. In a man of his age and habits this seemed +very possible. Montgomery prayed that it +might be so. Meanwhile, if his opponent were +the best man who ever jumped the ropes into a +ring, his own duty was clear. He must prepare +himself carefully, throw away no chance, and do +the very best that he could. But he knew +enough to appreciate the difference which exists +in boxing, as in every sport, between the amateur +and the professional. The coolness, the +power of hitting, above all the capability of taking +punishment, count for so much. Those +specially developed, gutta-percha-like abdominal +muscles of the hardened pugilist will take +without flinching a blow which would leave another +man writhing on the ground. Such things +are not to be acquired in a week, but all that +could be done in a week should be done.</p> + +<p>The medical assistant had a good basis to +start from. He was 5 feet 11 inches—tall +enough for anything on two legs, as the old ring +men used to say—lithe and spare, with the activity +of a panther, and a strength which had +hardly yet ever found its limitations. His muscular +development was finely hard, but his power +came rather from that higher nerve-energy +which counts for nothing upon a measuring tape. +He had the well-curved nose, and the widely-opened +eye which never yet were seen upon the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +face of a craven, and behind everything he had +the driving force, which came from the knowledge +that his whole career was at stake upon the +contest. The three backers rubbed their hands +when they saw him at work punching the ball +in the gymnasium next morning; and Fawcett, +the horsebreaker, who had written to Leeds to +hedge his bets, sent a wire to cancel the letter, +and to lay another fifty at the market price of +seven to one.</p> + +<p>Montgomery's chief difficulty was to find +time for his training without any interference +from the doctor. His work took him a large +part of the day, but as the visiting was done on +foot, and considerable distances had to be traversed, +it was a training in itself. For the rest, +he punched the swinging ball and worked with +the dumb-bells for an hour every morning and +evening, and boxed twice a day with Ted Barton +in the gymnasium, gaining as much profit +as could be got from a rushing, two-handed +slogger. Barton was full of admiration for his +cleverness and quickness, but doubtful about +his strength. Hard hitting was the feature of +his own style, and he exacted it from others.</p> + +<p>"Lord, sir, that's a turble poor poonch for +an eleven-stone man!" he would cry. "Thou +wilt have to hit harder than that afore t' Master +will know that thou art theer. Ah, thot's +better, mon, thot's fine!" he would add, as his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +opponent lifted him across the room on the +end of a right counter. "Thot's how I likes +to feel 'em. Happen thou'lt pull through yet." +He chuckled with joy when Montgomery +knocked him into a corner. "Eh, mon, thou +art comin' along grand. Thou hast fair +yarked me off my legs. Do it again, lad, do it +again!"</p> + +<p>The only part of Montgomery's training +which came within the doctor's observation was +his diet, and that puzzled him considerably.</p> + +<p>"You will excuse my remarking, Mr. Montgomery, +that you are becoming rather particular +in your tastes. Such fads are not to be encouraged +in one's youth. Why do you eat +toast with every meal?"</p> + +<p>"I find that it suits me better than bread, +sir."</p> + +<p>"It entails unnecessary work upon the cook. +I observe, also, that you have turned against +potatoes."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; I think that I am better without +them."</p> + +<p>"And you no longer drink your beer?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"These causeless whims and fancies are very +much to be deprecated, Mr. Montgomery. +Consider how many there are to whom these +very potatoes and this very beer would be most +acceptable."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No doubt, sir. But at present I prefer to +do without them."</p> + +<p>They were sitting alone at lunch, and the +assistant thought that it would be a good opportunity +of asking leave for the day of the +fight.</p> + +<p>"I should be glad if you could let me have +leave for Saturday, Doctor Oldacre."</p> + +<p>"It is very inconvenient upon so busy a +day."</p> + +<p>"I should do a double day's work on Friday +so as to leave everything in order. I should +hope to be back in the evening."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I cannot spare you, Mr. Montgomery."</p> + +<p>This was a facer. If he could not get leave +he would go without it.</p> + +<p>"You will remember, Doctor Oldacre, that +when I came to you it was understood that I +should have a clear day every month. I have +never claimed one. But now there are reasons +why I wish to have a holiday upon Saturday."</p> + +<p>Doctor Oldacre gave in with a very bad +grace.</p> + +<p>"Of course, if you insist upon your formal +rights, there is no more to be said, Mr. Montgomery, +though I feel that it shows a certain +indifference to my comfort and the welfare of +the practice. Do you still insist?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Very good. Have your way."</p> + +<p>The doctor was boiling over with anger, but +Montgomery was a valuable assistant—steady, +capable, and hard-working—and he could not +afford to lose him. Even if he had been +prompted to advance those class fees, for which +his assistant had appealed, it would have been +against his interests to do so, for he did not +wish him to qualify, and he desired him to +remain in his subordinate position, in which he +worked so hard for so small a wage. There +was something in the cool insistence of the +young man, a quiet resolution in his voice as +he claimed his Saturday, which aroused his +curiosity.</p> + +<p>"I have no desire to interfere unduly with +your affairs, Mr. Montgomery, but were you +thinking of having a day in Leeds upon +Saturday?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"In the country?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"You are very wise. You will find a quiet +day among the wild flowers a very valuable +restorative. Had you thought of any particular +direction?"</p> + +<p>"I am going over Croxley way."</p> + +<p>"Well, there is no prettier country when +once you are past the iron-works. What could +be more delightful than to lie upon the Fells,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +basking in the sunshine, with perhaps some +instructive and elevating book as your companion? +I should recommend a visit to the +ruins of St. Bridget's Church, a very interesting +relic of the early Norman era. By the way, +there is one objection which I see to your going +to Croxley on Saturday. It is upon that date, +as I am informed, that that ruffianly glove-fight +takes place. You may find yourself molested +by the blackguards whom it will attract."</p> + +<p>"I will take my chance of that, sir," said the +assistant.</p> + +<p>On the Friday night, which was the last +before the fight, Montgomery's three backers +assembled in the gymnasium and inspected +their man as he went through some light +exercises to keep his muscles supple. He was +certainly in splendid condition, his skin shining +with health, and his eyes with energy and confidence. +The three walked round him and +exulted.</p> + +<p>"He's simply ripping!" said the undergraduate. +"By gad, you've come out of it +splendidly. You're as hard as a pebble, and +fit to fight for your life."</p> + +<p>"Happen he's a trifle on the fine side," said +the publican. "Runs a bit light at the loins, +to my way of thinkin'."</p> + +<p>"What weight to-day?"</p> + +<p>"Ten stone eleven," the assistant answered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's only three pund off in a week's +trainin'," said the horsebreaker. "He said +right when he said that he was in condition. +Well, it's fine stuff all there is of it, but I'm +none so sure as there is enough." He kept +poking his finger into Montgomery, as if he +were one of his horses. "I hear that the +Master will scale a hundred and sixty odd at +the ring-side."</p> + +<p>"But there's some of that which he'd like +well to pull off and leave behind wi' his shirt," +said Purvis. "I hear they've had a rare job +to get him to drop his beer, and if it had not +been for that great red-headed wench of his +they'd never ha' done it. She fair scratted the +face off a potman that had brought him a +gallon from t' Chequers. They say the hussy +is his sparrin' partner, as well as his sweetheart, +and that his poor wife is just breakin' her heart +over it. Hullo, young 'un, what do you want?"</p> + +<p>The door of the gymnasium had opened, +and a lad about sixteen, grimy and black with +soot and iron, stepped into the yellow glare of +the oil-lamp. Ted Barton seized him by the +collar.</p> + +<p>"See here, thou yoong whelp, this is private, +and we want noan o' thy spyin'!"</p> + +<p>"But I maun speak to Mr. Wilson."</p> + +<p>The young Cantab stepped forward.</p> + +<p>"Well, my lad, what is it?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's aboot t' fight, Mr. Wilson, sir. I +wanted to tell your mon somethin' aboot t' +Maister."</p> + +<p>"We've no time to listen to gossip, my boy. +We know all about the Master."</p> + +<p>"But thou doant, sir. Nobody knows but +me and mother, and we thought as we'd like +thy mon to know, sir, for we want him to fair +bray him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you want the Master fair brayed, do +you? So do we. Well, what have you to +say?"</p> + +<p>"Is this your mon, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Well, suppose it is?"</p> + +<p>"Then it's him I want to tell aboot it. T' +Maister is blind o' the left eye."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!"</p> + +<p>"It's true, sir. Not stone blind, but rarely +fogged. He keeps it secret, but mother knows, +and so do I. If thou slip him on the left side +he can't cop thee. Thou'll find it right as I +tell thee. And mark him when he sinks his +right. 'Tis his best blow, his right upper-cut. +T' Maister's finisher, they ca' it at t' works. +It's a turble blow, when it do come home."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, my boy. This is information +worth having about his sight," said Wilson. +"How came you to know so much? Who are +you?"</p> + +<p>"I'm his son, sir."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> + +<p>Wilson whistled.</p> + +<p>"And who sent you to us?"</p> + +<p>"My mother. I maun get back to her +again."</p> + +<p>"Take this half-crown."</p> + +<p>"No, sir, I don't seek money in comin' here. +I do it——"</p> + +<p>"For love?" suggested the publican.</p> + +<p>"For hate!" said the boy, and darted off +into the darkness.</p> + +<p>"Seems to me t' red-headed wench may do +him more harm than good, after all," remarked +the publican. "And now," Mr. Montgomery, +sir, you´ve done enough for this evenin', an' a +nine hours' sleep is the best trainin' before a +battle. Happen this time to-morrow night +you'll be safe back again with your £100 in +your pocket."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<h2>II</h2> + +<p class="cap">WORK was struck at one o'clock at the coal-pits +and the iron-works, and the fight +was arranged for three. From the Croxley +Furnaces, from Wilson's Coal-pits, from the +Heartsease Mine, from the Dodd Mills, from +the Leverworth Smelters the workmen came +trooping, each with his fox-terrier or his lurcher +at his heels. Warped with labour and twisted +by toil, bent double by week-long work in the +cramped coal galleries, or half-blinded with years +spent in front of white-hot fluid metal, these +men still gilded their harsh and hopeless lives +by their devotion to sport. It was their one relief, +the only thing which could distract their +mind from sordid surroundings, and give them +an interest beyond the blackened circle which +inclosed them. Literature, art, science, all these +things were beyond the horizon; but the race, +the football match, the cricket, the fight, these +were things which they could understand, which +they could speculate upon in advance and comment +upon afterwards. Sometimes brutal, sometimes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +grotesque, the love of sport is still one of +the great agencies which make for the happiness +of our people. It lies very deeply in the +springs of our nature, and when it has been educated +out, a higher, more refined nature may be +left, but it will not be of that robust British +type which has left its mark so deeply on the +world. Every one of these ruddled workers, +slouching with his dog at his heels to see something +of the fight, was a true unit of his race.</p> + +<p>It was a squally May day, with bright sun-bursts +and driving showers. Montgomery +worked all morning in the surgery getting his +medicine made up.</p> + +<p>"The weather seems so very unsettled, Mr. +Montgomery," remarked the doctor, "that I +am inclined to think that you had better postpone +your little country excursion until a later +date."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid that I must go to-day, sir."</p> + +<p>"I have just had an intimation that Mrs. +Potter, at the other side of Angleton, wishes to +see me. It is probable that I shall be there all +day. It will be extremely inconvenient to leave +the house empty so long."</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry, sir, but I must go," said +the assistant, doggedly.</p> + +<p>The doctor saw that it would be useless to +argue, and departed in the worst of bad tempers +upon his mission. Montgomery felt easier<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +now that he was gone. He went up to his +room, and packed his running-shoes, his fighting-drawers, +and his cricket-sash into a handbag. +When he came down Mr. Wilson was waiting +for him in the surgery.</p> + +<p>"I hear the doctor has gone."</p> + +<p>"Yes; he is likely to be away all day."</p> + +<p>"I don't see that it matters much. It's +bound to come to his ears by to-night."</p> + +<p>"Yes; it's serious with me, Mr. Wilson. If +I win, it's all right. I don't mind telling you +that the hundred pounds will make all the difference +to me. But if I lose, I shall lose my +situation, for, as you say, I can't keep it secret."</p> + +<p>"Never mind. We'll see you through +among us. I only wonder the doctor has not +heard, for it's all over the country that you are +to fight the Croxley Champion. We've had +Armitage up about it already. He's the Master's +backer, you know. He wasn't sure that +you were eligible. The Master said he wanted +you whether you were eligible or not. Armitage +has money on, and would have made +trouble if he could. But I showed him that you +came within the conditions of the challenge, and +he agreed that it was all right. They think they +have a soft thing on."</p> + +<p>"Well, I can only do my best," said Montgomery.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> + +<p>They lunched together; a silent and rather +nervous repast, for Montgomery's mind was +full of what was before him, and Wilson had +himself more money at stake than he cared to +lose.</p> + +<p>Wilson's carriage and pair were at the door, +the horses with blue-and-white rosettes at their +ears, which were the colours of the Wilson Coal-pits, +well known on many a football field. At +the avenue gate a crowd of some hundred pit-men +and their wives gave a cheer as the carriage +passed. To the assistant it all seemed +dream-like and extraordinary—the strangest +experience of his life, but with a thrill of human +action and interest in it which made it passionately +absorbing. He lay back in the open +carriage and saw the fluttering handkerchiefs +from the doors and windows of the miners' +cottages. Wilson had pinned a blue-and-white +rosette upon his coat, and every one knew him +as their champion. "Good luck, sir! good +luck to thee!" they shouted from the roadside. +He felt that it was like some unromantic knight +riding down to sordid lists, but there was something +of chivalry in it all the same. He fought +for others as well as for himself. He might +fail from want of skill or strength, but deep in +his sombre soul he vowed that it should never +be for want of heart.</p> + +<p>Mr. Fawcett was just mounting into his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +high-wheeled, spidery dogcart, with his little +bit of blood between the shafts. He waved +his whip and fell in behind the carriage. They +overtook Purvis, the tomato-faced publican, +upon the road, with his wife in her Sunday +bonnet. They also dropped into the procession, +and then, as they traversed the seven +miles of the high-road to Croxley, their two-horsed, +rosetted carriage became gradually the +nucleus of a comet with a loosely radiating +tail. From every side-road came the miners' +carts, the humble, ramshackle traps, black and +bulging, with their loads of noisy, foul-tongued, +open-hearted partisans. They trailed +for a long quarter of a mile behind them—cracking, +whipping, shouting, galloping, swearing. +Horsemen and runners were mixed with +the vehicles. And then suddenly a squad of +the Sheffield Yeomanry, who were having +their annual training in those parts, clattered +and jingled out of a field, and rode as an escort +to the carriage. Through the dust-clouds +round him Montgomery saw the gleaming +brass helmets, the bright coats, and the tossing +heads of the chargers, the delighted brown +faces of the troopers. It was more dream-like +than ever.</p> + +<p>And then, as they approached the monstrous, +uncouth line of bottle-shaped buildings +which marked the smelting-works of Croxley,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +their long, writhing snake of dust was headed +off by another but longer one which wound +across their path. The main-road into which +their own opened was filled by the rushing current +of traps. The Wilson contingent halted +until the others should get past. The iron-men +cheered and groaned, according to their +humour, as they whirled past their antagonist. +Rough chaff flew back and forwards like iron +nuts and splinters of coal. "Brought him up, +then!" "Got t' hearse for to fetch him back?" +"Where's t' owd K-legs?" "Mon, mon, +have thy photograph took—'twill mind thee +of what thou used to look!" "He fight?—he's +now't but a half-baked doctor!" "Happen +he'll doctor thy Croxley Champion afore +he's through wi't."</p> + +<p>So they flashed at each other as the one side +waited and the other passed. Then there came +a rolling murmur swelling into a shout, and a +great break with four horses came clattering +along, all streaming with salmon-pink ribbons. +The driver wore a white hat with pink rosette, +and beside him, on the high seat, were a man +and a woman—she with her arm round his +waist. Montgomery had one glimpse of them +as they flashed past: he with a furry cap drawn +low over his brow, a great frieze coat, and a +pink comforter round his throat; she brazen, +red-headed, bright-coloured, laughing excitedly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +The Master, for it was he, turned as he passed, +gazed hard at Montgomery, and gave him a +menacing, gap-toothed grin. It was a hard, +wicked face, blue-jowled and craggy, with long, +obstinate cheeks and inexorable eyes. The +break behind was full of patrons of the sport—flushed +iron-foremen, heads of departments, +managers. One was drinking from a metal +flask, and raised it to Montgomery as he passed; +and then the crowd thinned, and the Wilson +<i>cortège</i> with their dragoons swept in at the rear +of the others.</p> + +<p>The road led away from Croxley, between +curving green hills, gashed and polluted by the +searchers for coal and iron. The whole country +had been gutted, and vast piles of refuse and +mountains of slag suggested the mighty chambers +which the labor of man had burrowed +beneath. On the left the road curved up to +where a huge building, roofless and dismantled, +stood crumbling and forlorn, with the light +shining through the windowless squares.</p> + +<p>"That's the old Arrowsmith's factory. That's +where the fight is to be," said Wilson. "How +are you feeling now?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you. I was never better in my +life," Montgomery answered.</p> + +<p>"By Gad, I like your nerve!" said Wilson, +who was himself flushed and uneasy. "You'll +give us a fight for our money, come what may.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +That place on the right is the office, and that +has been set aside as the dressing and weighing-room."</p> + +<p>The carriage drove up to it amidst the shouts +of the folk upon the hillside. Lines of empty +carriages and traps curved down upon the +winding road, and a black crowd surged +round the door of the ruined factory. The +seats, as a huge placard announced, were five +shillings, three shillings, and a shilling, with +half-price for dogs. The takings, deducting +expenses, were to go to the winner, and it +was already evident that a larger stake than +a hundred pounds was in question. A babel +of voices rose from the door. The workers +wished to bring their dogs in free. The +men scuffled. The dogs barked. The crowd +was a whirling, eddying pool surging with a +roar up to the narrow cleft which was its only +outlet.</p> + +<p>The break, with its salmon-coloured streamers +and four reeking horses, stood empty before +the door of the office; Wilson, Purvis, Fawcett, +and Montgomery passed in.</p> + +<p>There was a large, bare room inside with +square, clean patches upon the grimy walls, +where pictures and almanacs had once hung. +Worn linoleum covered the floor, but there +was no furniture save some benches and a deal +table with a ewer and a basin upon it. Two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +of the corners were curtained off. In the +middle of the room was a weighing-chair. A +hugely fat man, with a salmon tie and a blue +waist-coat with bird's-eye spots, came bustling +up to them. It was Armitage, the butcher and +grazier, well known for miles round as a warm +man, and the most liberal patron of sport in +the Riding.</p> + +<p>"Well, well," he grunted, in a thick, fussy, +wheezy voice, "you have come, then. Got +your man? Got your man?"</p> + +<p>"Here he is, fit and well. Mr. Montgomery, +let me present you to Mr. Armitage."</p> + +<p>"Glad to meet you, sir. Happy to make +your acquaintance. I make bold to say, sir, +that we of Croxley admire your courage, Mr. +Montgomery, and that our only hope is a fair +fight and no favour and the best man win. +That's our sentiment at Croxley."</p> + +<p>"And it is my sentiment also," said the +assistant.</p> + +<p>"Well, you can't say fairer than that, Mr. +Montgomery. You've taken a large contrac' +in hand, but a large contrac' may be carried +through, sir, as any one that knows my dealings +could testify. The Master is ready to +weigh in!"</p> + +<p>"So am I."</p> + +<p>"You must weigh in the buff."</p> + +<p>Montgomery looked askance at the tall,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +red-headed woman who was standing gazing +out of the window.</p> + +<p>"That's all right," said Wilson. "Get +behind the curtain and put on your fighting-kit."</p> + +<p>He did so, and came out the picture of an +athlete, in white, loose drawers, canvas shoes, +and the sash of a well-known cricket club +round his waist. He was trained to a hair, his +skin gleaming like silk, and every muscle +rippling down his broad shoulders and along +his beautiful arms as he moved them. They +bunched into ivory knobs, or slid into long, +sinuous curves, as he raised or lowered his +hands.</p> + +<p>"What thinkest thou o' that?" asked Ted +Barton, his second, of the woman in the window.</p> + +<p>She glanced contemptuously at the young +athlete.</p> + +<p>"It's but a poor kindness thou dost him to +put a thread-paper yoong gentleman like yon +against a mon as is a mon. Why, my Jock +would throttle him wi' one hond lashed behind +him."</p> + +<p>"Happen he may—happen not," said Barton. +"I have but twa pund in the world, +but it's on him, every penny, and no hedgin'. +But here's t' Maister, and rarely fine he do +look."</p> + +<p>The prize-fighter had come out from his curtain,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +a squat, formidable figure, monstrous in +chest and arms, limping slightly on his distorted leg. +His skin had none of the freshness +and clearness of Montgomery's, but was dusky +and mottled, with one huge mole amid the mat +of tangled black hair which thatched his mighty +breast. His weight bore no relation to his +strength, for those huge shoulders and great +arms, with brown, sledge-hammer fists, would +have fitted the heaviest man that ever threw his +cap into a ring. But his loins and legs were +slight in proportion. Montgomery, on the +other hand, was as symmetrical as a Greek +statue. It would be an encounter between a +man who was specially fitted for one sport, and +one who was equally capable of any. The two +looked curiously at each other: a bulldog, and +a high-bred, clean-limbed terrier, each full of +spirit.</p> + +<p>"How do you do?"</p> + +<p>"How do?" The Master grinned again, +and his three jagged front teeth gleamed for an +instant. The rest had been beaten out of him +in twenty years of battle. He spat upon the +floor. "We have a rare fine day for't."</p> + +<p>"Capital," said Montgomery.</p> + +<p>"That's the good feelin' I like," wheezed the +fat butcher. "Good lads, both of them!—prime +lads!—hard meat an' good bone. +There's no ill-feelin'."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If he downs me, Gawd bless him!" said +the Master.</p> + +<p>"An' if we down him, Gawd help him!" +interrupted the woman.</p> + +<p>"Haud thy tongue, wench!" said the Master, +impatiently. "Who art thou to put in +thy word? Happen I might draw my hand +across thy face."</p> + +<p>The woman did not take the threat amiss.</p> + +<p>"Wilt have enough for thy hand to do, +Jock," said she. "Get quit o' this gradely +man afore thou turn on me."</p> + +<p>The lovers' quarrel was interrupted by the +entrance of a new comer, a gentleman with a +fur-collared overcoat and a very shiny top-hat—a +top-hat of a degree of glossiness which is +seldom seen five miles from Hyde Park. This +hat he wore at the extreme back of his head, so +that the lower surface of the brim made a kind +of frame for his high, bald forehead, his keen +eyes, his rugged and yet kindly face. He +bustled in with the quiet air of possession with +which the ring-master enters the circus.</p> + +<p>"It's Mr. Stapleton, the referee from London," +said Wilson.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Mr. Stapleton? I was +introduced to you at the big fight at the Corinthian +Club, in Piccadilly."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I dare say," said the other, shaking +hands. "Fact is, I'm introduced to so many<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +that I can't undertake to carry their names. +Wilson, is it? Well, Mr. Wilson, glad to see +you. Couldn't get a fly at the station, and +that's why I'm late."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure, sir," said Armitage, "we should +be proud that any one so well known in the boxing +world should come down to our little exhibition."</p> + +<p>"Not at all. Not at all. Anything in the +interests of boxin'. All ready? Men weighed?"</p> + +<p>"Weighing now, sir."</p> + +<p>"Ah, just as well I should see it done. Seen +you before, Craggs. Saw you fight your second +battle against Willox. You had beaten +him once, but he came back on you. What +does the indicator say?—one hundred and +sixty-three pounds—two off for the kit—one +hundred and sixty-one. Now, my lad, you +jump. My goodness, what colours are you +wearing?"</p> + +<p>"The Anonymi Cricket Club."</p> + +<p>"What right have you to wear them? I belong +to the club myself."</p> + +<p>"So do I."</p> + +<p>"You an amateur?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"And you are fighting for a money prize?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you know what you are doing? +You realize that you're a professional pug<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +from this onwards, and that if ever you fight +again——"</p> + +<p>"I'll never fight again."</p> + +<p>"Happen you won't," said the woman, and +the Master turned a terrible eye upon her.</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose you know your own business +best. Up you jump. One hundred and fifty-one, +minus two, one hundred and forty-nine—twelve +pounds difference, but youth and condition +on the other scale. Well, the sooner we +get to work the better, for I wish to catch the +seven o'clock express at Hellifield. Twenty +three-minute rounds, with one-minute intervals, +and Queensberry rules. Those are the conditions, +are they not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Very good, then, we may go across."</p> + +<p>The two combatants had overcoats thrown +over their shoulders, and the whole party, backers, +fighters, seconds, and the referee, filed out +of the room. A police inspector was waiting +for them in the road. He had a notebook in +his hand—that terrible weapon which awes even +the London cabman.</p> + +<p>"I must take your names, gentlemen, in case +it should be necessary to proceed for breach of +peace."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to stop the fight?" cried +Armitage, in a passion of indignation. "I'm +Mr. Armitage, of Croxley, and this is Mr. Wilson,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +and we'll be responsible that all is fair and +as it should be.'</p> + +<p>"I'll take the names in case it should be +necessary to proceed," said the inspector, impassively.</p> + +<p>"But you know me well."</p> + +<p>"If you was a dook or even a judge it +would be all the same," said the inspector. +"It's the law, and there's an end. I'll not +take upon myself to stop the fight, seeing that +gloves are to be used, but I'll take the names +of all concerned. Silas Craggs, Robert Montgomery, +Edward Barton, James Stapleton, of +London. Who seconds Silas Craggs?"</p> + +<p>"I do," said the woman. "Yes, you can +stare, but it's my job, and no one else's. Anastasia's +the name—four a's."</p> + +<p>"Craggs?"</p> + +<p>"Johnson. Anastasia Johnson. If you +jug him, you can jug me."</p> + +<p>"Who talked of juggin', ye fool?" growled +the Master. "Coom on, Mr. Armitage, for +I'm fair sick o' this loiterin'."</p> + +<p>The inspector fell in with the procession, +and proceeded, as they walked up the hill, to +bargain in his official capacity for a front seat, +where he could safeguard the interests of the +law, and in his private capacity to lay out +thirty shillings at seven to one with Mr. Armitage. +Through the door they passed, down a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +narrow lane walled with a dense bank of humanity, +up a wooden ladder to a platform, over +a rope which was slung waist-high from four +corner-stakes, and then Montgomery realized +that he was in that ring in which his immediate +destiny was to be worked out. On the stake +at one corner there hung a blue-and-white +streamer. Barton led him across, the overcoat +dangling loosely from his shoulders, and he sat +down on a wooden stool. Barton and another +man, both wearing white sweaters, stood beside +him. The so-called ring was a square, twenty +feet each way. At the opposite angle was the +sinister figure of the Master, with his red-headed +woman and a rough-faced friend to +look after him. At each corner were metal +basins, pitchers of water, and sponges.</p> + +<p>During the hubbub and uproar of the entrance +Montgomery was too bewildered to take +things in. But now there was a few minutes' +delay, for the referee had lingered behind, and +so he looked quietly about him. It was a sight +to haunt him for a lifetime. Wooden seats +had been built in, sloping upwards to the tops +of the walls. Above, instead of a ceiling, a +great flight of crows passed slowly across a +square of grey cloud. Right up to the top-most +benches the folk were banked—broadcloth +in front, corduroys and fustian behind; +faces turned everywhere upon him. The grey<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +reek of the pipes filled the building, and the +air was pungent with the acrid smell of cheap, +strong tobacco. Everywhere among the human +faces were to be seen the heads of the +dogs. They growled and yapped from the +back benches. In that dense mass of humanity +one could hardly pick out individuals, +but Montgomery's eyes caught the brazen +gleam of the helmets held upon the knees of +the ten yeomen of his escort. At the very +edge of the platform sat the reporters, five of +them: three locals, and two all the way from +London. But where was the all-important +referee? There was no sign of him, unless he +were in the centre of that angry swirl of men +near the door.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton had stopped to examine the +gloves which were to be used, and entered the +building after the combatants. He had started +to come down that narrow lane with the human +walls which led to the ring. But already it +had gone abroad that the Wilson champion +was a gentleman, and that another gentleman +had been appointed as referee. A wave of +suspicion passed through the Croxley folk. +They would have one of their own people for +a referee. They would not have a stranger. +His path was stopped as he made for the ring. +Excited men flung themselves in front of him; +they waved their fists in his face and cursed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +him. A woman howled vile names in his ear. +Somebody struck at him with an umbrella. +"Go thou back to Lunnon. We want noan +o' thee. Go thou back!" they yelled.</p> + +<p>Stapleton, with his shiny hat cocked backwards, +and his large, bulging forehead swelling +from under it, looked round him from beneath +his bushy brows. He was in the centre of a +savage and dangerous mob. Then he drew +his watch from his pocket and held it dial +upwards in his palm.</p> + +<p>"In three minutes," said he, "I will declare +the fight off."</p> + +<p>They raged round him. His cool face and +that aggressive top-hat irritated them. Grimy +hands were raised. But it was difficult, somehow, +to strike a man who was so absolutely +indifferent.</p> + +<p>"In two minutes I declare the fight off."</p> + +<p>They exploded into blasphemy. The breath +of angry men smoked into his placid face. A +gnarled, grimy fist vibrated at the end of his +nose. "We tell thee we want noan o' thee. +Get thou back where thou com'st from."</p> + +<p>"In one minute I declare the fight off."</p> + +<p>Then the calm persistence of the man conquered +the swaying, mutable, passionate crowd.</p> + +<p>"Let him through, mon. Happen there'll +be no fight after a'."</p> + +<p>"Let him through."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Bill, thou loomp, let him pass. Dost want +the fight declared off?"</p> + +<p>"Make room for the referee!—room for the +Lunnon referee!"</p> + +<p>And half pushed, half carried, he was swept +up to the ring. There were two chairs by the +side of it, one for him and one for the timekeeper. +He sat down, his hands on his knees, +his hat at a more wonderful angle than ever, +impassive but solemn, with the aspect of one +who appreciates his responsibilities.</p> + +<p>Mr. Armitage, the portly butcher, made his +way into the ring and held up two fat hands, +sparkling with rings, as a signal for silence.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen!" he yelled. And then in a +crescendo shriek, "Gentlemen!"</p> + +<p>"And ladies!" cried somebody, for indeed +there was a fair sprinkling of women among the +crowd. "Speak up, owd man!" shouted another. +"What price pork chops?" cried somebody +at the back. Everybody laughed, and +the dogs began to bark. Armitage waved his +hands amidst the uproar as if he were conducting +an orchestra. At last the babel thinned +into silence.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," he yelled, "the match is between +Silas Craggs, whom we call the Master +of Croxley, and Robert Montgomery, of the +Wilson Coal-pits. The match was to be under +eleven-eight. When they were weighed just<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +now Craggs weighed eleven-seven, and Montgomery +ten-nine. The conditions of the contest +are—the best of twenty three-minute +rounds with two-ounce gloves. Should the +fight run to its full length it will, of course, be +decided upon points. Mr. Stapleton, the well-known +London referee, has kindly consented +to see fair play. I wish to say that Mr. Wilson +and I, the chief backers of the two men, have +every confidence in Mr. Stapleton, and that we +beg that you will accept his rulings without dispute."</p> + +<p>He then turned from one combatant to the +other, with a wave of his hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<h2>III</h2> + +<p class="cap">MONTGOMERY—Craggs!" said he.</p> + +<p>A great hush fell over the huge assembly. +Even the dogs stopped yapping; one +might have thought that the monstrous room +was empty. The two men had stood up, the +small white gloves over their hands. They advanced +from their corners and shook hands: +Montgomery, gravely, Craggs with a smile. +Then they fell into position. The crowd gave +a long sigh—the intake of a thousand excited +breaths. The referee tilted his chair on to its +back legs, and looked moodily critical from the +one to the other.</p> + +<p>It was strength against activity—that was evident +from the first. The Master stood stolidly +upon his K-leg. It gave him a tremendous +pedestal; one could hardly imagine his +being knocked down. And he could pivot +round upon it with extraordinary quickness; +but his advance or retreat was ungainly. His +frame, however, was so much larger and broader +than that of the student, and his brown, massive<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +face looked so resolute and menacing, that +the hearts of the Wilson party sank within +them. There was one heart, however, which +had not done so. It was that of Robert Montgomery.</p> + +<p>Any nervousness which he may have had +completely passed away now that he had his +work before him. Here was something definite—this +hard-faced, deformed Hercules to beat, +with a career as the price of beating him. He +glowed with the joy of action; it thrilled through +his nerves. He faced his man with little in-and-out +steps, breaking to the left, breaking to +the right, feeling his way, while Craggs, with a +dull, malignant eye, pivoted slowly upon his +weak leg, his left arm half extended, his right +sunk low across the mark. Montgomery led +with his left, and then led again, getting lightly +home each time. He tried again, but the Master +had his counter ready, and Montgomery +reeled back from a harder blow than he had +given. Anastasia, the woman, gave a shrill cry +of encouragement, and her man let fly his right. +Montgomery ducked under it, and in an instant +the two were in each other's arms.</p> + +<p>"Break away! Break away!" said the +referee.</p> + +<p>The Master struck upwards on the break, +and shook Montgomery with the blow. Then +it was "time." It had been a spirited opening<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +round. The people buzzed into comment and +applause. Montgomery was quite fresh, but +the hairy chest of the Master was rising and +falling. The man passed a sponge over his +head, while Anastasia flapped the towel before +him. "Good lass! Good lass!" cried the +crowd, and cheered her.</p> + +<p>The men were up again, the Master grimly +watchful, Montgomery as alert as a kitten. +The Master tried a sudden rush, squattering +along with his awkward gait, but coming faster +than one would think. The student slipped +aside and avoided him. The Master stopped, +grinned, and shook his head. Then he motioned +with his hand as an invitation to Montgomery +to come to him. The student did +so and led with his left, but got a swinging +right counter in the ribs in exchange. The +heavy blow staggered him, and the Master +came scrambling in to complete his advantage; +but Montgomery, with his greater activity, +kept out of danger until the call of +"time." A tame round, and the advantage +with the Master.</p> + +<p>"T' Maister's too strong for him," said a +smelter to his neighbour.</p> + +<p>"Ay; but t'other's a likely lad. Happen +we'll see some sport yet. He can joomp +rarely."</p> + +<p>"But t' Maister can stop and hit rarely.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +Happen he'll mak' him joomp when he gets +his nief upon him."</p> + +<p>They were up again, the water glistening +upon their faces. Montgomery led instantly +and got his right home with a sounding smack +upon the Master's forehead. There was a +shout from the colliers, and "Silence! Order!" +from the referee. Montgomery avoided the +counter and scored with his left. Fresh applause, +and the referee upon his feet in indignation. +"No comments, gentlemen, if <i>you</i> +please, during the rounds."</p> + +<p>"Just bide a bit!" growled the Master.</p> + +<p>"Don't talk—fight!" said the referee, angrily.</p> + +<p>Montgomery rubbed in the point by a flush +hit upon the mouth, and the Master shambled +back to his corner like an angry bear, having +had all the worst of the round.</p> + +<p>"Where's thot seven to one?" shouted Purvis, +the publican. "I'll take six to one!"</p> + +<p>There were no answers.</p> + +<p>"Five to one!" There were givers at that. +Purvis booked them in a tattered notebook.</p> + +<p>Montgomery began to feel happy. He lay +back with his legs outstretched, his back against +the corner-post, and one gloved hand upon each +rope. What a delicious minute it was between +each round. If he could only keep out of +harm's way, he must surely wear this man out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +before the end of twenty rounds. He was +so slow that all his strength went for nothing. +"You're fightin' a winnin' fight—a winnin' +fight," Ted Barton whispered in his ear. "Go +canny; tak' no chances; you have him proper."</p> + +<p>But the Master was crafty. He had fought +so many battles with his maimed limb that he +knew how to make the best of it. Warily and +slowly he manœuvred round Montgomery, stepping +forward and yet again forward until he had +imperceptibly backed him into his corner. The +student suddenly saw a flash of triumph upon +the grim face, and a gleam in the dull, malignant +eyes. The Master was upon him. He +sprang aside and was on the ropes. The Master +smashed in one of his terrible upper-cuts, +and Montgomery half broke it with his guard. +The student sprang the other way and was +against the other converging rope. He was +trapped in the angle. The Master sent in another, +with a hoggish grunt which spoke of the +energy behind it. Montgomery ducked, but +got a jab from the left upon the mark. He +closed with his man. "Break away! Break +away?" cried the referee. Montgomery disengaged, +and got a swinging blow on the ear as +he did so. It had been a damaging round for +him, and the Croxley people were shouting their +delight.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen, I will <i>not</i> have this noise!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +Stapleton roared. "I have been accustomed to +preside at a well-conducted club, and not at a +bear-garden." This little man, with the tilted +hat and the bulging forehead, dominated the +whole assembly. He was like a headmaster +among his boys. He glared round him, and +nobody cared to meet his eye.</p> + +<p>Anastasia had kissed the Master when he resumed +his seat. "Good lass. Do't again!" +cried the laughing crowd, and the angry Master +shook his glove at her, as she flapped her towel +in front of him. Montgomery was weary and +a little sore, but not depressed. He had learned +something. He would not again be tempted +into danger.</p> + +<p>For three rounds the honours were fairly +equal. The student's hitting was the quicker, +the Master's the harder. Profiting by his lesson, +Montgomery kept himself in the open, +and refused to be herded into a corner. Sometimes +the Master succeeded in rushing him to +the side-ropes, but the younger man slipped +away, or closed and then disengaged. The +monotonous "Break away! Break away!" +of the referee broke in upon the quick, low +patter of rubber-soled shoes, the dull thud of +the blows, and the sharp, hissing breath of two +tired men.</p> + +<p>The ninth round found both of them in +fairly good condition. Montgomery's head<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +was still singing from the blow that he had in +the corner, and one of his thumbs pained him +acutely and seemed to be dislocated. The +Master showed no sign of a touch, but his +breathing was the more laboured, and a long +line of ticks upon the referee's paper showed +that the student had a good show of points. +But one of this iron-man's blows was worth +three of his, and he knew that without the +gloves he could not have stood for three rounds +against him. All the amateur work that he +had done was the merest tapping and flapping +when compared to those frightful blows, from +arms toughened by the shovel and the crowbar.</p> + +<p>It was the tenth round, and the fight was +half over. The betting now was only three to +one, for the Wilson champion had held his own +much better than had been expected. But +those who knew the ringcraft as well as the +staying power of the old prize-fighter knew +that the odds were still a long way in his favour.</p> + +<p>"Have a care of him!" whispered Barton, +as he sent his man up to the scratch. "Have +a care! He'll play thee a trick, if he can."</p> + +<p>But Montgomery saw, or imagined he saw, +that his antagonist was tiring. He looked +jaded and listless, and his hands drooped a little +from their position. His own youth and condition +were beginning to tell. He sprang in +and brought off a fine left-handed lead. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +Master's return lacked his usual fire. Again +Montgomery led, and again he got home. +Then he tried his right upon the mark, and the +Master guarded it downwards.</p> + +<p>"Too low! Too low! A foul! A foul!" +yelled a thousand voices.</p> + +<p>The referee rolled his sardonic eyes slowly +round. "Seems to me this buildin' is chock-full +of referees," said he.</p> + +<p>The people laughed and applauded, but +their favour was as immaterial to him as their +anger.</p> + +<p>"No applause, please! This is not a +theatre!" he yelled.</p> + +<p>Montgomery was very pleased with himself. +His adversary was evidently in a bad way. He +was piling on his points and establishing a lead. +He might as well make hay while the sun +shone. The Master was looking all abroad. +Montgomery popped one upon his blue jowl +and got away without a return. And then the +Master suddenly dropped both his hands and +began rubbing his thigh. Ah! that was it, was +it? He had muscular cramp.</p> + +<p>"Go in! Go in!" cried Teddy Barton.</p> + +<p>Montgomery sprang wildly forward, and the +next instant was lying half senseless, with his +neck nearly broken, in the middle of the ring.</p> + +<p>The whole round had been a long conspiracy +to tempt him within reach of one of those terrible<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +right-hand upper-cuts for which the +Master was famous. For this the listless, +weary bearing, for this the cramp in the thigh. +When Montgomery had sprang in so hotly he +had exposed himself to such a blow as neither +flesh nor blood could stand. Whizzing up +from below with a rigid arm, which put the +Master's eleven stone into its force, it struck +him under the jaw: he whirled half round, and +fell a helpless and half-paralyzed mass. A +vague groan and murmur, inarticulate, too excited +for words, rose from the great audience. +With open mouths and staring eyes they gazed +at the twitching and quivering figure.</p> + +<p>"Stand back! Stand right back!" shrieked +the referee, for the Master was standing over +his man ready to give him the <i>coup-de-grâce</i> as +he rose.</p> + +<p>"Stand back, Craggs, this instant!" Stapleton +repeated.</p> + +<p>The Master sank his hands sulkily and +walked backwards to the rope with his ferocious +eyes fixed upon his fallen antagonist. The +timekeeper called the seconds. If ten of them +passed before Montgomery rose to his feet, the +fight was ended. Ted Barton wrung his hands +and danced about in an agony in his corner.</p> + +<p>As if in a dream—a terrible nightmare—the +student could hear the voice of the timekeeper—three—four—five—he +got up on his hand—six—seven—he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +was on his knee, sick, swimming, +faint, but resolute to rise. Eight—he was up, +and the Master was on him like a tiger, lashing +savagely at him with both hands. Folk +held their breath as they watched those terrible +blows, and anticipated the pitiful end—so much +more pitiful where a game but helpless man +refuses to accept defeat.</p> + +<p>Strangely automatic is the human brain. +Without volition, without effort, there shot +into the memory of this bewildered, staggering, +half-stupefied man the one thing which could +have saved him—that blind eye of which the +Master's son had spoken. It was the same as +the other to look at, but Montgomery remembered +that he had said that it was the left. He +reeled to the left side, half felled by a drive +which lit upon his shoulder. The Master +pivoted round upon his leg and was at him in +an instant.</p> + +<p>"Yark him, lad! yark him!" screamed the +woman.</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue!" said the referee.</p> + +<p>Montgomery slipped to the left again and +yet again; but the Master was too quick and +clever for him. He struck round and got him +full on the face as he tried once more to break +away. Montgomery's knees weakened under +him, and he fell with a groan on the floor. +This time he knew that he was done. With<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +bitter agony he realized, as he groped blindly +with his hands, that he could not possibly +raise himself. Far away and muffled he heard, +amid the murmurs of the multitude, the fateful +voice of the timekeeper counting off the +seconds.</p> + +<p>"One—two—three—four—five—six——"</p> + +<p>"Time!" said the referee.</p> + +<p>Then the pent-up passion of the great assembly +broke loose. Croxley gave a deep +groan of disappointment. The Wilsons were +on their feet, yelling with delight. There was +still a chance for them. In four more seconds +their man would have been solemnly counted +out. But now he had a minute in which to +recover. The referee looked round with relaxed +features and laughing eyes. He loved +this rough game, this school for humble heroes, +and it was pleasant to him to intervene as +a <i>Deux ex machinâ</i> at so dramatic a moment. +His chair and his hat were both tilted at an +extreme angle; he and the timekeeper smiled +at each other. Ted Barton and the other second +had rushed out and thrust an arm each +under Montgomery's knee, the other behind +his loins, and so carried him back to his stool. +His head lolled upon his shoulder, but a +douche of cold water sent a shiver through +him, and he started and looked round him.</p> + +<p>"He's a' right!" cried the people round.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +"He's a rare brave lad. Good lad! Good +lad!" Barton poured some brandy into his +mouth. The mists cleared a little, and he realized +where he was and what he had to do. +But he was still very weak, and he hardly dared +to hope that he could survive another round.</p> + +<p>"Seconds out of the ring!" cried the referee. +"Time!"</p> + +<p>The Croxley Master sprang eagerly off his +stool.</p> + +<p>"Keep clear of him! Go easy for a bit," +said Barton, and Montgomery walked out to +meet his man once more.</p> + +<p>He had had two lessons—the one when the +Master got him into his corner, the other when +he had been lured into mixing it up with so +powerful an antagonist. Now he would be +wary. Another blow would finish him; he +could afford to run no risks. The Master was +determined to follow up his advantage, and +rushed at him, slogging furiously right and +left. But Montgomery was too young and +active to be caught. He was strong upon his +legs once more, and his wits had all come back +to him. It was a gallant sight—the line-of-battleship +trying to pour its overwhelming +broadside into the frigate, and the frigate +manœuvring always so as to avoid it. The +Master tried all his ring-craft. He coaxed the +student up by pretended inactivity; he rushed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +at him with furious rushes towards the ropes. +For three rounds he exhausted every wile in +trying to get at him. Montgomery during all +this time was conscious that his strength was +minute by minute coming back to him. The +spinal jar from an upper-cut is overwhelming, +but evanescent. He was losing all sense of +it beyond a great stiffness of the neck. For +the first round after his downfall he had been +content to be entirely on the defensive, only +too happy if he could stall off the furious attacks +of the Master. In the second he occasionally +ventured upon a light counter. In +the third he was smacking back merrily where +he saw an opening. His people yelled their +approval of him at the end of every round. +Even the iron-workers cheered him with that +fine unselfishness which true sport engenders. +To most of them, unspiritual and unimaginative, +the sight of this clean-limbed young +Apollo, rising above disaster and holding on +while consciousness was in him to his appointed +task, was the greatest thing their experience +had ever known.</p> + +<p>But the Master's naturally morose temper +became more and more murderous at this +postponement of his hopes. Three rounds ago +the battle had been in his hands; now it was all +to do over again. Round by round his man +was recovering his strength. By the fifteenth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +he was strong again in wind and limb. But the +vigilant Anastasia saw something which encouraged +her.</p> + +<p>"That bash in t' ribs is telling on him, Jock," +she whispered. "Why else should he be gulping +t' brandy? Go in, lad, and thou hast him +yet."</p> + +<p>Montgomery had suddenly taken the flask +from Barton's hand, and had a deep pull at the +contents. Then, with his face a little flushed, +and with a curious look of purpose, which made +the referee stare hard at him, in his eyes, he +rose for the sixteenth round.</p> + +<p>"Game as a pairtridge!" cried the publican, +as he looked at the hard-set face.</p> + +<p>"Mix it oop, lad; mix it oop!" cried the +iron-men to their Master.</p> + +<p>And then a hum of exultation ran through +their ranks as they realized that their tougher, +harder, stronger man held the vantage, after +all.</p> + +<p>Neither of the men showed much sign of +punishment. Small gloves crush and numb, +but they do not cut. One of the Master's eyes +was even more flush with his cheek than Nature +had made it. Montgomery had two or +three livid marks upon his body, and his face +was haggard, save for that pink spot which the +brandy had brought into either cheek. He +rocked a little as he stood opposite his man,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +and his hands drooped as if he felt the gloves +to be an unutterable weight. It was evident +that he was spent and desperately weary. If +he received one other blow it must surely be +fatal to him. If he brought one home, what +power could there be behind it, and what chance +was there of its harming the colossus in front +of him? It was the crisis of the fight. This +round must decide it. "Mix it oop, lad; mix +it oop!" the iron-men whooped. Even the +savage eyes of the referee were unable to restrain +the excited crowd.</p> + +<p>Now, at last, the chance had come for Montgomery. +He had learned a lesson from his +more experienced rival. Why should he not +play his own game upon him? He was spent, +but not nearly so spent as he pretended. That +brandy was to call up his reserves, to let him +have strength to take full advantage of the +opening when it came. It was thrilling and +tingling through his veins, at the very moment +when he was lurching and rocking like a beaten +man. He acted his part admirably. The +Master felt that there was an easy task before +him, and rushed in with ungainly activity to +finish it once for all. He slap-banged away +left and right, boring Montgomery up against +the ropes, swinging in his ferocious blows with +those animal grunts which told of the vicious +energy behind them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> + +<p>But Montgomery was too cool to fall a +victim to any of those murderous upper-cuts. +He kept out of harm's way with a rigid guard, +an active foot, and a head which was swift to +duck. And yet he contrived to present the +same appearance of a man who is hopelessly +done. The Master, weary from his own +shower of blows, and fearing nothing from so +weak a man, dropped his hand for an instant, +and at that instant Montgomery's right came +home.</p> + +<p>It was a magnificent blow, straight, clean, +crisp, with the force of the loins and the back +behind it. And it landed where he had meant +it to—upon the exact point of that blue-grained +chin. Flesh and blood could not stand such a +blow in such a place. Neither valour nor +hardihood can save the man to whom it comes. +The Master fell backwards, flat, prostrate, +striking the ground with so simultaneous a clap +that it was like a shutter falling from a wall. +A yell which no referee could control broke +from the crowded benches as the giant went +down. He lay upon his back, his knees a +little drawn up, his huge chest panting. He +twitched and shook, but could not move. His +feet pawed convulsively once or twice. It was +no use. He was done. "Eight—nine—ten!" +said the timekeeper, and the roar of a thousand +voices, with a deafening clap like the broadside<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +of a ship, told that the Master of Croxley was +the Master no more.</p> + +<p>Montgomery stood half dazed, looking down +at the huge, prostrate figure. He could hardly +realize that it was indeed all over. He saw the +referee motion towards him with his hand. He +heard his name bellowed in triumph from every +side. And then he was aware of some one +rushing towards him; he caught a glimpse of a +flushed face and an aureole of flying red hair, +a gloveless fist struck him between the eyes, +and he was on his back in the ring beside his +antagonist, while a dozen of his supporters +were endeavouring to secure the frantic Anastasia. +He heard the angry shouting of the +referee, the screaming of the furious woman, +and the cries of the mob. Then something +seemed to break like an over-stretched banjo-string, +and he sank into the deep, deep, mist-girt +abyss of unconsciousness.</p> + +<p>The dressing was like a thing in a dream, +and so was a vision of the Master with the grin +of a bulldog upon his face, and his three teeth +amiably protruded. He shook Montgomery +heartily by the hand.</p> + +<p>"I would have been rare pleased to shake +thee by the throttle, lad, a short while syne," +said he. "But I bear no ill-feelin' again' thee. +It was a rare poonch that brought me down—I +have not had a better since my second fight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +wi' Billy Edwards in '89. Happen thou might +think o' goin' further wi' this business. If thou +dost, and want a trainer, there's not much inside +t' ropes as I don't know. Or happen thou +might like to try it wi' me old style and bare +knuckles. Thou hast but to write to t' iron-works +to find me."</p> + +<p>But Montgomery disclaimed any such ambition. +A canvas bag with his share—one hundred +and ninety sovereigns—was handed to +him, of which he gave ten to the Master, who +also received some share of the gate-money.</p> + +<p>Then, with young Wilson escorting him on +one side, Purvis on the other, and Fawcett +carrying his bag behind, he went in triumph to +his carriage, and drove amid a long roar, which +lined the highway like a hedge for the seven +miles, back to his starting-point.</p> + +<p>"It's the greatest thing I ever saw in my life. +By George, it's ripping!" cried Wilson, who +had been left in a kind of ecstasy by the events +of the day. "There's a chap over Barnsley +way who fancies himself a bit. Let us spring +you on him, and let him see what he can make +of you. We'll put up a purse—won't we, Purvis? +You shall never want a backer."</p> + +<p>"At his weight," said the publican, "I'm +behind him, I am, for twenty rounds, and no +age, country, or color barred."</p> + +<p>"So am I!" cried Fawcett; "middle-weight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +champion of the world, that's what he is—here, +in the same carriage with us."</p> + +<p>But Montgomery was not to be beguiled.</p> + +<p>"No; I have my own work to do now."</p> + +<p>"And what may that be?"</p> + +<p>"I'll use this money to get my medical degree."</p> + +<p>"Well, we've plenty of doctors, but you're +the only man in the Riding that could smack +the Croxley Master off his legs. However, I +suppose you know your own business best. +When you're a doctor, you'd best come down +into these parts, and you'll always find a job +waiting for you at the Wilson Coal-pits."</p> + +<p>Montgomery had returned by devious ways +to the surgery. The horses were smoking at +the door, and the doctor was just back from his +long journey. Several patients had called in +his absence, and he was in the worst of +tempers.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I should be glad that you have +come back at all, Mr. Montgomery!" he +snarled. "When next you elect to take a +holiday, I trust, it will not be at so busy a +time."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, sir, that you should have been +inconvenienced."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, I have been exceedingly inconvenienced." +Here, for the first time, he looked +hard at the assistant. "Good heavens, Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +Montgomery, what have you been doing with +your left eye?"</p> + +<p>It was where Anastasia had lodged her protest.</p> + +<p>Montgomery laughed. "It is nothing, sir," +said he.</p> + +<p>"And you have a livid mark under your jaw. +It is, indeed, terrible that my representative +should be going about in so disreputable a condition. +How did you receive these injuries?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, as you know, there was a little +glove-fight to-day over at Croxley."</p> + +<p>"And you got mixed up with that brutal +crowd?"</p> + +<p>"I <i>was</i> rather mixed up with them."</p> + +<p>"And who assaulted you?"</p> + +<p>"One of the fighters."</p> + +<p>"Which of them?"</p> + +<p>"The Master of Croxley."</p> + +<p>"Good heavens! Perhaps you interfered +with him?"</p> + +<p>"Well, to tell the truth, I did a little."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Montgomery, in such a practice as +mine, intimately associated as it is with the +highest and most progressive elements of our +small community, it is impossible——"</p> + +<p>But just then the tentative bray of a cornet-player +searching for his keynote jarred upon +their ears, and an instant later the Wilson Colliery +brass band was in full cry with, "See the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +Conquering Hero Comes," outside the surgery +window. There was a banner waving, and a +shouting crowd of miners.</p> + +<p>"What is it? What does it mean?" cried +the angry doctor.</p> + +<p>"It means, sir, that I have, in the only way +which was open to me, earned the money which +is necessary for my education. It is my duty, +Doctor Oldacre, to warn you that I am about +to return to the University, and that you should +lose no time in appointing my successor."</p> + +<p class="center bolded extraspacetop">THE END</p> + +<hr class="r65" /> + +<p class="center bolded extraspace3top">Transcriber Notes:</p> + +<div class="blockquotetn"> +<b>Changes:</b><br /> +<i>page 44</i><br /> +Original: "Montgomery looked askance<br /> + +Replaced: Montgomery looked askance<br /> + +<b>Unchanged:</b><br /> +<i>page 60</i><br /> +Original: "Break away! Break away?" cried the referee.<br /> + +retained the ?, perhaps ! intended<br /> + +<i>page 66</i><br /> +a _Deux ex machinâ_ at so dramatic a moment.<br /> +perhaps intended Deus - left as clearly printed</div> + +<hr class="r65" /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Croxley Master: A Great Tale Of +The Prize Ring, by Arthur Conan Doyle + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CROXLEY MASTER: A GREAT *** + +***** This file should be named 38443-h.htm or 38443-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/4/4/38443/ + +Produced by Gerard Arthus, Dianna Adair and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from scans of public domain material +produced by Microsoft for their Live Search Books site.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/38443-h/images/002.png b/38443-h/images/002.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4e5b3ed --- /dev/null +++ b/38443-h/images/002.png diff --git a/38443-h/images/cover2a.jpg b/38443-h/images/cover2a.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..566d1e8 --- /dev/null +++ b/38443-h/images/cover2a.jpg diff --git a/38443-h/images/frontis.jpg b/38443-h/images/frontis.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7c968df --- /dev/null +++ b/38443-h/images/frontis.jpg diff --git a/38443.txt b/38443.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7f5e51c --- /dev/null +++ b/38443.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2274 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Croxley Master: A Great Tale Of The +Prize Ring, by Arthur Conan Doyle + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Croxley Master: A Great Tale Of The Prize Ring + +Author: Arthur Conan Doyle + +Release Date: December 30, 2011 [EBook #38443] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CROXLEY MASTER: A GREAT *** + + + + +Produced by Gerard Arthus, Dianna Adair and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from scans of public domain material +produced by Microsoft for their Live Search Books site.) + + + + + + + + Illustration: The Fighter in the outdoor ring. + + + + + THE CROXLEY MASTER + + A GREAT TALE OF THE PRIZE RING + + BY + + A. CONAN DOYLE + + Illustration: The Fighter in the outdoor ring. + + NEW YORK + McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO. + MCMVII + + _Copyright, 1907, by McClure, Phillips & Co._ + + + + +_THE CROXLEY MASTER_ + + + + +I + + +Mr. Robert Montgomery was seated at his desk, his head upon his hands, +in a state of the blackest despondency. Before him was the open ledger +with the long columns of Dr. Oldacre's prescriptions. At his elbow lay +the wooden tray with the labels in various partitions, the cork box, the +lumps of twisted sealing-wax, while in front a rank of empty bottles +waited to be filled. But his spirits were too low for work. He sat in +silence, with his fine shoulders bowed and his head upon his hands. + +Outside, through the grimy surgery window over a foreground of blackened +brick and slate, a line of enormous chimneys like Cyclopean pillars +upheld the lowering, dun-coloured cloud-bank. For six days in the week +they spouted smoke, but to-day the furnace fires were banked, for it was +Sunday. Sordid and polluting gloom hung over a district blighted and +blasted by the greed of man. There was nothing in the surroundings to +cheer a desponding soul, but it was more than his dismal environment +which weighed upon the medical assistant. + +His trouble was deeper and more personal. The winter session was +approaching. He should be back again at the University completing the +last year which would give him his medical degree; but alas! he had not +the money with which to pay his class fees, nor could he imagine how he +could procure it. Sixty pounds were wanted to make his career, and it +might have been as many thousands for any chance there seemed to be of +his obtaining it. + +He was roused from his black meditation by the entrance of Dr. Oldacre +himself, a large, clean-shaven, respectable man, with a prim manner and +an austere face. He had prospered exceedingly by the support of the +local Church interest, and the rule of his life was never by word or +action to run a risk of offending the sentiment which had made him. His +standard of respectability and of dignity was exceedingly high, and he +expected the same from his assistants. His appearance and words were +always vaguely benevolent. A sudden impulse came over the despondent +student. He would test the reality of this philanthropy. + +"I beg your pardon, Dr. Oldacre," said he, rising from his chair; "I +have a great favour to ask of you." + +The doctor's appearance was not encouraging. His mouth suddenly +tightened, and his eyes fell. + +"Yes, Mr. Montgomery?" + +"You are aware, sir, that I need only one more session to complete my +course." + +"So you have told me." + +"It is very important to me, sir." + +"Naturally." + +"The fees, Dr. Oldacre, would amount to about sixty pounds." + +"I am afraid that my duties call me elsewhere, Mr. Montgomery." + +"One moment, sir! I had hoped, sir, that perhaps, if I signed a paper +promising you interest upon your money, you would advance this sum to +me. I will pay you back, sir, I really will. Or, if you like, I will +work it off after I am qualified." + +The doctor's lips had thinned into a narrow line. His eyes were raised +again, and sparkled indignantly. + +"Your request is unreasonable, Mr. Montgomery. I am surprised that you +should have made it. Consider, sir, how many thousands of medical +students there are in this country. No doubt there are many of them who +have a difficulty in finding their fees. Am I to provide for them all? +Or why should I make an exception in your favour? I am grieved and +disappointed, Mr. Montgomery, that you should have put me into the +painful position of having to refuse you." He turned upon his heel, and +walked with offended dignity out of the surgery. + +The student smiled bitterly, and turned to his work of making up the +morning prescriptions. It was poor and unworthy work--work which any +weakling might have done as well, and this was a man of exceptional +nerve and sinew. But, such as it was, it brought him his board and L1 a +week, enough to help him during the summer months and let him save a few +pounds towards his winter keep. But those class fees! Where were they to +come from? He could not save them out of his scanty wage. Dr. Oldacre +would not advance them. He saw no way of earning them. His brains were +fairly good, but brains of that quality were a drug in the market. He +only excelled in his strength; and where was he to find a customer for +that? But the ways of Fate are strange, and his customer was at hand. + +"Look y'ere!" said a voice at the door. + +Montgomery looked up, for the voice was a loud and rasping one. A young +man stood at the entrance--a stocky, bull-necked young miner, in tweed +Sunday clothes and an aggressive necktie. He was a sinister-looking +figure, with dark, insolent eyes, and the jaw and throat of a bulldog. + +"Look y'ere!" said he again. "Why hast thou not sent t' medicine oop as +thy master ordered?" + +Montgomery had become accustomed to the brutal frankness of the Northern +worker. At first it had enraged him, but after a time he had grown +callous to it, and accepted it as it was meant. But this was something +different. It was insolence--brutal, overbearing insolence, with +physical menace behind it. + +"What name?" he asked coldly. + +"Barton. Happen I may give thee cause to mind that name, yoong man. Mak' +oop t' wife's medicine this very moment, look ye, or it will be the +worse for thee." + +Montgomery smiled. A pleasant sense of relief thrilled softly through +him. What blessed safety-valve was this through which his jangled nerves +might find some outlet. The provocation was so gross, the insult so +unprovoked, that he could have none of those qualms which take the edge +off a man's mettle. He finished sealing the bottle upon which he was +occupied, and he addressed it and placed it carefully in the rack. + +"Look here!" said he turning round to the miner, "your medicine will be +made up in its turn and sent down to you. I don't allow folk in the +surgery. Wait outside in the waiting-room, if you wish to wait at all." + +"Yoong man," said the miner, "thou's got to mak' t' wife's medicine +here, and now, and quick, while I wait and watch thee, or else happen +thou might need some medicine thysel' before all is over." + +"I shouldn't advise you to fasten a quarrel upon me." Montgomery was +speaking in the hard, staccato voice of a man who is holding himself in +with difficulty. "You'll save trouble if you'll go quietly. If you don't +you'll be hurt. Ah, you would? Take it, then!" + +The blows were almost simultaneous--a savage swing which whistled past +Montgomery's ear, and a straight drive which took the workman on the +chin. Luck was with the assistant. That single whizzing uppercut, and +the way in which it was delivered, warned him that he had a formidable +man to deal with. But if he had underrated his antagonist, his +antagonist had also underrated him, and had laid himself open to a fatal +blow. + +The miner's head had come with a crash against the corner of the surgery +shelves, and he had dropped heavily onto the ground. There he lay with +his bandy legs drawn up and his hands thrown abroad, the blood trickling +over the surgery tiles. + +"Had enough?" asked the assistant, breathing fiercely through his nose. + +But no answer came. The man was insensible. And then the danger of his +position came upon Montgomery, and he turned as white as his antagonist. +A Sunday, the immaculate Dr. Oldacre with his pious connection, a savage +brawl with a patient; he would irretrievably lose his situation if the +facts came out. It was not much of a situation, but he could not get +another without a reference, and Oldacre might refuse him one. Without +money for his classes, and without a situation--what was to become of +him? It was absolute ruin. + +But perhaps he could escape exposure after all. He seized his insensible +adversary, dragged him out into the centre of the room, loosened his +collar, and squeezed the surgery sponge over his face. He sat up at last +with a gasp and a scowl. + +"Domn thee, thou's spoilt my necktie," said he, mopping up the water +from his breast. + +"I'm sorry I hit you so hard," said Montgomery, apologetically. + +"Thou hit me hard! I could stan' such fly-flappin' all day. 'Twas this +here press that cracked my pate for me, and thou art a looky man to be +able to boast as thou hast outed me. And now I'd be obliged to thee if +thou wilt give me t' wife's medicine." + +Montgomery gladly made it up and handed it to the miner. + +"You are weak still," said he. "Won't you stay awhile and rest?" + +"T' wife wants her medicine," said the man, and lurched out at the door. + +The assistant, looking after him, saw him rolling with an uncertain step +down the street, until a friend met him, and they walked on arm-in-arm. +The man seemed in his rough Northern fashion to bear no grudge, and so +Montgomery's fears left him. There was no reason why the doctor should +know anything about it. He wiped the blood from the floor, put the +surgery in order, and went on with his interrupted task, hoping that he +had come scathless out of a very dangerous business. + +Yet all day he was aware of a sense of vague uneasiness, which sharpened +into dismay when, late in the afternoon, he was informed that three +gentlemen had called and were waiting for him in the surgery. A +coroner's inquest, a descent of detectives, an invasion of angry +relatives--all sorts of possibilities rose to scare him. With tense +nerves and a rigid face he went to meet his visitors. + +They were a very singular trio. Each was known to him by sight; but what +on earth the three could be doing together, and, above all, what they +could expect from _him_, was a most inexplicable problem. + +The first was Sorley Wilson, the son of the owner of the Nonpareil +Coalpit. He was a young blood of twenty, heir to a fortune, a keen +sportsman, and down for the Easter Vacation from Magdalene College. He +sat now upon the edge of the surgery table, looking in thoughtful +silence at Montgomery, and twisting the ends of his small, black, waxed +moustache. + +The second was Purvis, the publican, owner of the chief beershop, and +well known as the local bookmaker. He was a coarse, clean-shaven man, +whose fiery face made a singular contrast with his ivory-white bald +head. He had shrewd, light-blue eyes with foxy lashes, and he also +leaned forward in silence from his chair, a fat, red hand upon either +knee, and stared critically at the young assistant. + +So did the third visitor, Fawcett, the horsebreaker, who leaned back, +his long, thin legs, with their box-cloth riding-gaiters, thrust out in +front of him, tapping his protruding teeth with his riding-whip, with +anxious thought in every line of his rugged, bony face. Publican, +exquisite, and horsebreaker were all three equally silent, equally +earnest, and equally critical. Montgomery, seated in the midst of them, +looked from one to the other. + +"Well, gentlemen?" he observed, but no answer came. + +The position was embarrassing. + +"No," said the horsebreaker, at last. "No. It's off. It's nowt." + +"Stand oop, lad; let's see thee standin'." It was the publican who +spoke. + +Montgomery obeyed. He would learn all about it, no doubt, if he were +patient. He stood up and turned slowly round, as if in front of his +tailor. + +"It's off! It's off!" cried the horsebreaker. "Why, mon, the Master +would break him over his knee." + +"Oh, that behanged for a yarn!" said the young Cantab. "You can drop out +if you like, Fawcett, but I'll see this thing through, if I have to do +it alone. I don't hedge a penny. I like the cut of him a great deal +better than I liked Ted Barton." + +"Look at Barton's shoulders, Mr. Wilson." + +"Lumpiness isn't always strength. Give me nerve and fire and breed. +That's what wins." + +"Ay, sir, you have it theer--you have it theer!" said the fat, red-faced +publican, in a thick, suety voice. "It's the same wi' poops. Get 'em +clean-bred an' fine, and they'll yark the thick 'uns--yark 'em out o' +their skins." + +"He's ten good pund on the light side," growled the horsebreaker. + +"He's a welter weight, anyhow." + +"A hundred and thirty." + +"A hundred and fifty, if he's an ounce." + +"Well, the master doesn't scale much more than that." + +"A hundred and seventy-five." + +"That was when he was hog-fat and living high. Work the grease out of +him, and I lay there's no great difference between them. Have you been +weighed lately, Mr. Montgomery?" + +It was the first direct question which had been asked him. He had stood +in the midst of them, like a horse at a fair, and he was just beginning +to wonder whether he was more angry or amused. + +"I am just eleven stone," said he. + +"I said that he was a welter weight." + +"But suppose you was trained?" said the publican. "Wot then?" + +"I am always in training." + +"In a manner of speakin', do doubt, he _is_ always in trainin'," +remarked the horsebreaker. "But trainin' for everyday work ain't the +same as trainin' with a trainer; and I dare bet, with all respec' to +your opinion, Mr. Wilson, that there's half a stone of tallow on him at +this minute." + +The young Cantab put his fingers on the assistant's upper arm. Then with +his other hand on his wrist he bent the forearm sharply, and felt the +biceps, as round and hard as a cricket-ball, spring up under his +fingers. + +"Feel that!" said he. + +The publican and horsebreaker felt it with an air of reverence. + +"Good lad! He'll do yet!" cried Purvis. + +"Gentlemen," said Montgomery, "I think that you will acknowledge that I +have been very patient with you. I have listened to all that you have to +say about my personal appearance, and now I must really beg that you +will have the goodness to tell me what is the matter." + +They all sat down in their serious, businesslike way. + +"That's easy done, Mr. Montgomery," said the fat-voiced publican. "But +before sayin' anything, we had to wait and see whether, in a way of +speakin', there was any need for us to say anything at all. Mr. Wilson +thinks there is. Mr. Fawcett, who has the same right to his opinion, +bein' also a backer and one o' the committee, thinks the other way." + +"I thought him too light built, and I think so now," said the +horsebreaker, still tapping his prominent teeth with the metal head of +his riding-whip. "But happen he may pull through; and he's a fine-made, +buirdly young chap, so if you mean to back him, Mr. Wilson----" + +"Which I do." + +"And you, Purvis?" + +"I ain't one to go back, Fawcett." + +"Well, I'll stan' to my share of the purse." + +"And well I knew you would," said Purvis, "for it would be somethin' new +to find Isaac Fawcett as a spoil-sport. Well, then, we make up the +hundred for the stake among us, and the fight stands--always supposin' +the young man is willin'." + +"Excuse all this rot, Mr. Montgomery," said the University man, in a +genial voice. "We've begun at the wrong end, I know, but we'll soon +straighten it out, and I hope that you will see your way to falling in +with our views. In the first place, you remember the man whom you +knocked out this morning? He is Barton--the famous Ted Barton." + +"I'm sure, sir, you may well be proud to have outed him in one round," +said the publican. "Why, it took Morris, the ten-stone-six champion, a +deal more trouble than that before he put Barton to sleep. You've done a +fine performance, sir, and happen you'll do a finer, if you give +yourself the chance." + +"I never heard of Ted Barton, beyond seeing the name on a medicine +label," said the assistant. + +"Well, you may take it from me that he's a slaughterer," said the +horsebreaker. "You've taught him a lesson that he needed, for it was +always a word and a blow with him, and the word alone was worth five +shillin' in a public court. He won't be so ready now to shake his nief +in the face of everyone he meets. However, that's neither here nor +there." + +Montgomery looked at them in bewilderment. + +"For goodness sake, gentlemen, tell me what it is you want me to do!" he +cried. + +"We want you to fight Silas Craggs, better known as the Master of +Croxley." + +"But why?" + +"Because Ted Barton was to have fought him next Saturday. He was the +champion of the Wilson coal-pits, and the other was the Master of the +iron-folk down at the Croxley smelters. We'd matched our man for a purse +of a hundred against the Master. But you've queered our man, and he +can't face such a battle with a two-inch cut at the back of his head. +There's only one thing to be done, sir, and that is for you to take his +place. If you can lick Ted Barton you may lick the Master of Croxley; +but if you don't we're done, for there's no one else who is in the same +street with him in this district. It's twenty rounds, two-ounce gloves, +Queensberry rules, and a decision on points if you fight to the finish." + +For a moment the absurdity of the thing drove every other thought out +of Montgomery's head. But then there came a sudden revulsion. A hundred +pounds!--all he wanted to complete his education was lying there ready +to his hand, if only that hand were strong enough to pick it up. He had +thought bitterly that morning that there was no market for his strength, +but here was one where his muscle might earn more in an hour than his +brains in a year. But a chill of doubt came over him. + +"How can I fight for the coal-pits?" said he. "I am not connected with +them." + +"Eh, lad, but thou art!" cried old Purvis. "We've got it down in +writin', and it's clear enough. 'Any one connected with the coal-pits.' +Doctor Oldacre is the coal-pit club doctor; thou art his assistant. What +more can they want?" + +"Yes, that's right enough," said the Cantab. "It would be a very +sporting thing of you, Mr. Montgomery, if you would come to our help +when we are in such a hole. Of course, you might not like to take the +hundred pounds; but I have no doubt that, in the case of your winning, +we could arrange that it should take the form of a watch or piece of +plate, or any other shape which might suggest itself to you. You see, +you are responsible for our having lost our champion, so we really feel +that we have a claim upon you." + +"Give me a moment, gentlemen. It is very unexpected. I am afraid the +doctor would never consent to my going--in fact, I am sure that he would +not." + +"But he need never know--not before the fight, at any rate. We are not +bound to give the name of our man. So long as he is within the weight +limits on the day of the fight, that is all that concerns any one." + +The adventure and the profit would either of them have attracted +Montgomery. The two combined were irresistible. + +"Gentlemen," said he, "I'll do it!" + +The three sprang from their seats. The publican had seized his right +hand, the horse-dealer his left, and the Cantab slapped him on the back. + +"Good lad! good lad!" croaked the publican. "Eh, mon, but if thou yark +him, thou'll rise in one day from being just a common doctor to the +best-known mon 'twixt here and Bradford. Thou art a witherin' tyke, thou +art, and no mistake; and if thou beat the Master of Croxley, thou'll +find all the beer thou want for the rest of thy life waiting for thee at +the Four Sacks." + +"It is the most sporting thing I ever heard of in my life," said young +Wilson. "By George, sir, if you pull it off, you've got the constituency +in your pocket, if you care to stand. You know the outhouse in my +garden?" + +"Next the road?" + +"Exactly. I turned it into a gymnasium for Ted Barton. You'll find all +you want there: clubs, punching ball, bars, dumb-bells, everything. Then +you'll want a sparring partner. Ogilvy has been acting for Barton, but +we don't think that he is class enough. Barton bears you no grudge. He's +a good-hearted fellow, though cross-grained with strangers. He looked +upon you as a stranger this morning, but he says he knows you now. He is +quite ready to spar with you for practice, and he will come at any hour +you will name." + +"Thank you; I will let you know the hour," said Montgomery; and so the +committee departed jubilant upon their way. + +The medical assistant sat for a little time in the surgery turning it +over in his mind. He had been trained originally at the University by +the man who had been middle-weight champion in his day. It was true that +his teacher was long past his prime, slow upon his feet and stiff in his +joints, but even so he was still a tough antagonist; but Montgomery had +found at last that he could more than hold his own with him. He had won +the University medal, and his teacher, who had trained so many students, +was emphatic in his opinion that he had never had one who was in the +same class with him. He had been exhorted to go in for the Amateur +Championships, but he had no particular ambition in that direction. Once +he had put on the gloves with Hammer Tunstall in a booth at a fair, and +had fought three rattling rounds, in which he had the worst of it, but +had made the prize-fighter stretch himself to the uttermost. There was +his whole record, and was it enough to encourage him to stand up to the +Master of Croxley? He had never heard of the Master before, but then he +had lost touch of the ring during the last few years of hard work. After +all, what did it matter? If he won, there was the money, which meant so +much to him. If he lost, it would only mean a thrashing. He could take +punishment without flinching, of that he was certain. If there were only +one chance in a hundred of pulling it off, then it was worth his while +to attempt it. + +Dr. Oldacre, new come from church, with an ostentatious Prayer-book in +his kid-gloved hand, broke in upon his meditation. + +"You don't go to service, I observe, Mr. Montgomery," said he, coldly. + +"No, sir; I have had some business to detain me." + +"It is very near to my heart that my household should set a good +example. There are so few educated people in this district that a great +responsibility devolves upon us. If we do not live up to the highest, +how can we expect these poor workers to do so? It is a dreadful thing to +reflect that the parish takes a great deal more interest in an +approaching glove-fight than in their religious duties." + +"A glove-fight, sir?" said Montgomery, guiltily. + +"I believe that to be the correct term. One of my patients tells me that +it is the talk of the district. A local ruffian, a patient of ours, by +the way, is matched against a pugilist over at Croxley. I cannot +understand why the law does not step in and stop so degrading an +exhibition. It is really a prize-fight." + +"A glove fight, you said." + +"I am informed that a two-ounce glove is an evasion by which they dodge +the law, and make it difficult for the police to interfere. They contend +for a sum of money. It seems dreadful and almost incredible--does it +not?--to think that such scenes can be enacted within a few miles of our +peaceful home. But you will realize, Mr. Montgomery, that while there +are such influences for us to counteract, it is very necessary that we +should live up to our highest." + +The doctor's sermon would have had more effect if the assistant had not +once or twice had occasion to test his highest and come upon it at +unexpectedly humble elevations. It is always so particularly easy to +"compound for sins we're most inclined to by damning those we have no +mind to." In any case, Montgomery felt that of all the men concerned in +such a fight--promoters, backers, spectators--it is the actual fighter +who holds the strongest and most honourable position. His conscience +gave him no concern upon the subject. Endurance and courage are virtues, +not vices, and brutality is, at least, better than effeminacy. + +There was a little tobacco-shop at the corner of the street, where +Montgomery got his bird's-eye and also his local information, for the +shopman was a garrulous soul, who knew everything about the affairs of +the district. The assistant strolled down there after tea and asked, in +a casual way, whether the tobacconist had ever heard of the Master of +Croxley. + +"Heard of him! Heard of him!" the little man could hardly articulate in +his astonishment. "Why, sir, he's the first mon o' the district, an' his +name's as well known in the West Riding as the winner o' t' Derby. But +Lor', sir"--here he stopped and rummaged among a heap of papers. "They +are makin' a fuss about him on account o' his fight wi' Ted Barton, and +so the _Croxley Herald_ has his life an' record, an' here it is, an' +thou canst read it for thysel'." + +The sheet of the paper which he held up was a lake of print around an +islet of illustration. The latter was a coarse wood-cut of a pugilist's +head and neck set in a cross-barred jersey. It was a sinister but +powerful face, the face of a debauched hero, clean-shaven, strongly +eyebrowed, keen-eyed, with a huge aggressive jaw and an animal dewlap +beneath it. The long, obstinate cheeks ran flush up to the narrow, +sinister eyes. The mighty neck came down square from the ears and curved +outwards into shoulders, which had lost nothing at the hands of the +local artist. Above was written "Silas Craggs," and beneath, "The Master +of Croxley." + +"Thou'll find all about him there, sir," said the tobacconist. "He's a +witherin' tyke, he is, and we're proud to have him in the county. If he +hadn't broke his leg he'd have been champion of England." + +"Broke his leg, has he?" + +"Yes, and it set badly. They ca' him owd K behind his bock, for thot is +how his two legs look. But his arms--well, if they was both stropped to +a bench, as the sayin' is, I wonder where the champion of England would +be then." + +"I'll take this with me," said Montgomery; and putting the paper into +his pocket he returned home. + +It was not a cheering record which he read there. The whole history of +the Croxley Master was given in full, his many victories, his few +defeats. + +"Born in 1857," said the provincial biographer, "Silas Craggs, better +known in sporting circles as The Master of Croxley, is now in his +fortieth year." + +"Hang it, I'm only twenty-three," said Montgomery to himself, and read +on more cheerfully. + +"Having in his youth shown a surprising aptitude for the game, he fought +his way up among his comrades, until he became the recognized champion +of the district and won the proud title which he still holds. Ambitious +of a more than local fame, he secured a patron, and fought his first +fight against Jack Barton, of Birmingham, in May, 1880, at the old +Loiterers' Club. Craggs, who fought at ten-stone-two at the time, had +the better of fifteen rattling rounds, and gained an award on points +against the Midlander. Having disposed of James Dunn, of Rotherhithe, +Cameron, of Glasgow, and a youth named Fernie, he was thought so highly +of by the fancy that he was matched against Ernest Willox, at that time +middle-weight champion of the North of England, and defeated him in a +hard-fought battle, knocking him out in the tenth round after a +punishing contest. At this period it looked as if the very highest +honours of the ring were within the reach of the young Yorkshireman, but +he was laid upon the shelf by a most unfortunate accident. The kick of a +horse broke his thigh, and for a year he was compelled to rest himself. +When he returned to his work the fracture had set badly, and his +activity was much impaired. It was owing to this that he was defeated in +seven rounds by Willox, the man whom he had previously beaten, and +afterwards by James Shaw, of London, though the latter acknowledged that +he had found the toughest customer of his career. Undismayed by his +reverses, the Master adapted the style of his fighting to his physical +disabilities and resumed his career of victory--defeating Norton (the +black), Bobby Wilson, and Levy Cohen, the latter a heavy-weight. +Conceding two stone, he fought a draw with the famous Billy McQuire, and +afterwards, for a purse of fifty pounds, he defeated Sam Hare at the +Pelican Club, London. In 1891 a decision was given against him upon a +foul when fighting a winning fight against Jim Taylor, the Australian +middle-weight, and so mortified was he by the decision, that he withdrew +from the ring. Since then he has hardly fought at all save to +accommodate any local aspirant who may wish to learn the difference +between a bar-room scramble and a scientific contest. The latest of +these ambitious souls comes from the Wilson coal-pits, which have +undertaken to put up a stake of L100 and back their local champion. +There are various rumours afloat as to who their representative is to +be, the name of Ted Barton being freely mentioned; but the betting, +which is seven to one on the Master against any untried man, is a fair +reflection of the feeling of the community." + +Montgomery read it over twice, and it left him with a very serious face. +No light matter this which he had undertaken; no battle with a +rough-and-tumble fighter who presumed upon a local reputation. The man's +record showed that he was first-class--or nearly so. There were a few +points in his favour, and he must make the most of them. There was +age--twenty-three against forty. There was an old ring proverb that +"Youth will be served," but the annals of the ring offer a great number +of exceptions. A hard veteran, full of cool valour and ring-craft, could +give ten or fifteen years and a beating to most striplings. He could not +rely too much upon his advantage in age. But then there was the +lameness; that must surely count for a great deal. And, lastly, there +was the chance that the Master might underrate his opponent, that he +might be remiss in his training, and refuse to abandon his usual way of +life, if he thought that he had an easy task before him. In a man of +his age and habits this seemed very possible. Montgomery prayed that it +might be so. Meanwhile, if his opponent were the best man who ever +jumped the ropes into a ring, his own duty was clear. He must prepare +himself carefully, throw away no chance, and do the very best that he +could. But he knew enough to appreciate the difference which exists in +boxing, as in every sport, between the amateur and the professional. The +coolness, the power of hitting, above all the capability of taking +punishment, count for so much. Those specially developed, +gutta-percha-like abdominal muscles of the hardened pugilist will take +without flinching a blow which would leave another man writhing on the +ground. Such things are not to be acquired in a week, but all that could +be done in a week should be done. + +The medical assistant had a good basis to start from. He was 5 feet 11 +inches--tall enough for anything on two legs, as the old ring men used +to say--lithe and spare, with the activity of a panther, and a strength +which had hardly yet ever found its limitations. His muscular +development was finely hard, but his power came rather from that higher +nerve-energy which counts for nothing upon a measuring tape. He had the +well-curved nose, and the widely-opened eye which never yet were seen +upon the face of a craven, and behind everything he had the driving +force, which came from the knowledge that his whole career was at stake +upon the contest. The three backers rubbed their hands when they saw him +at work punching the ball in the gymnasium next morning; and Fawcett, +the horsebreaker, who had written to Leeds to hedge his bets, sent a +wire to cancel the letter, and to lay another fifty at the market price +of seven to one. + +Montgomery's chief difficulty was to find time for his training without +any interference from the doctor. His work took him a large part of the +day, but as the visiting was done on foot, and considerable distances +had to be traversed, it was a training in itself. For the rest, he +punched the swinging ball and worked with the dumb-bells for an hour +every morning and evening, and boxed twice a day with Ted Barton in the +gymnasium, gaining as much profit as could be got from a rushing, +two-handed slogger. Barton was full of admiration for his cleverness and +quickness, but doubtful about his strength. Hard hitting was the feature +of his own style, and he exacted it from others. + +"Lord, sir, that's a turble poor poonch for an eleven-stone man!" he +would cry. "Thou wilt have to hit harder than that afore t' Master will +know that thou art theer. Ah, thot's better, mon, thot's fine!" he would +add, as his opponent lifted him across the room on the end of a right +counter. "Thot's how I likes to feel 'em. Happen thou'lt pull through +yet." He chuckled with joy when Montgomery knocked him into a corner. +"Eh, mon, thou art comin' along grand. Thou hast fair yarked me off my +legs. Do it again, lad, do it again!" + +The only part of Montgomery's training which came within the doctor's +observation was his diet, and that puzzled him considerably. + +"You will excuse my remarking, Mr. Montgomery, that you are becoming +rather particular in your tastes. Such fads are not to be encouraged in +one's youth. Why do you eat toast with every meal?" + +"I find that it suits me better than bread, sir." + +"It entails unnecessary work upon the cook. I observe, also, that you +have turned against potatoes." + +"Yes, sir; I think that I am better without them." + +"And you no longer drink your beer?" + +"No, sir." + +"These causeless whims and fancies are very much to be deprecated, Mr. +Montgomery. Consider how many there are to whom these very potatoes and +this very beer would be most acceptable." + +"No doubt, sir. But at present I prefer to do without them." + +They were sitting alone at lunch, and the assistant thought that it +would be a good opportunity of asking leave for the day of the fight. + +"I should be glad if you could let me have leave for Saturday, Doctor +Oldacre." + +"It is very inconvenient upon so busy a day." + +"I should do a double day's work on Friday so as to leave everything in +order. I should hope to be back in the evening." + +"I am afraid I cannot spare you, Mr. Montgomery." + +This was a facer. If he could not get leave he would go without it. + +"You will remember, Doctor Oldacre, that when I came to you it was +understood that I should have a clear day every month. I have never +claimed one. But now there are reasons why I wish to have a holiday upon +Saturday." + +Doctor Oldacre gave in with a very bad grace. + +"Of course, if you insist upon your formal rights, there is no more to +be said, Mr. Montgomery, though I feel that it shows a certain +indifference to my comfort and the welfare of the practice. Do you still +insist?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very good. Have your way." + +The doctor was boiling over with anger, but Montgomery was a valuable +assistant--steady, capable, and hard-working--and he could not afford to +lose him. Even if he had been prompted to advance those class fees, for +which his assistant had appealed, it would have been against his +interests to do so, for he did not wish him to qualify, and he desired +him to remain in his subordinate position, in which he worked so hard +for so small a wage. There was something in the cool insistence of the +young man, a quiet resolution in his voice as he claimed his Saturday, +which aroused his curiosity. + +"I have no desire to interfere unduly with your affairs, Mr. Montgomery, +but were you thinking of having a day in Leeds upon Saturday?" + +"No, sir." + +"In the country?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You are very wise. You will find a quiet day among the wild flowers a +very valuable restorative. Had you thought of any particular direction?" + +"I am going over Croxley way." + +"Well, there is no prettier country when once you are past the +iron-works. What could be more delightful than to lie upon the Fells, +basking in the sunshine, with perhaps some instructive and elevating +book as your companion? I should recommend a visit to the ruins of St. +Bridget's Church, a very interesting relic of the early Norman era. By +the way, there is one objection which I see to your going to Croxley on +Saturday. It is upon that date, as I am informed, that that ruffianly +glove-fight takes place. You may find yourself molested by the +blackguards whom it will attract." + +"I will take my chance of that, sir," said the assistant. + +On the Friday night, which was the last before the fight, Montgomery's +three backers assembled in the gymnasium and inspected their man as he +went through some light exercises to keep his muscles supple. He was +certainly in splendid condition, his skin shining with health, and his +eyes with energy and confidence. The three walked round him and exulted. + +"He's simply ripping!" said the undergraduate. "By gad, you've come out +of it splendidly. You're as hard as a pebble, and fit to fight for your +life." + +"Happen he's a trifle on the fine side," said the publican. "Runs a bit +light at the loins, to my way of thinkin'." + +"What weight to-day?" + +"Ten stone eleven," the assistant answered. + +"That's only three pund off in a week's trainin'," said the +horsebreaker. "He said right when he said that he was in condition. +Well, it's fine stuff all there is of it, but I'm none so sure as there +is enough." He kept poking his finger into Montgomery, as if he were one +of his horses. "I hear that the Master will scale a hundred and sixty +odd at the ring-side." + +"But there's some of that which he'd like well to pull off and leave +behind wi' his shirt," said Purvis. "I hear they've had a rare job to +get him to drop his beer, and if it had not been for that great +red-headed wench of his they'd never ha' done it. She fair scratted the +face off a potman that had brought him a gallon from t' Chequers. They +say the hussy is his sparrin' partner, as well as his sweetheart, and +that his poor wife is just breakin' her heart over it. Hullo, young 'un, +what do you want?" + +The door of the gymnasium had opened, and a lad about sixteen, grimy and +black with soot and iron, stepped into the yellow glare of the oil-lamp. +Ted Barton seized him by the collar. + +"See here, thou yoong whelp, this is private, and we want noan o' thy +spyin'!" + +"But I maun speak to Mr. Wilson." + +The young Cantab stepped forward. + +"Well, my lad, what is it?" + +"It's aboot t' fight, Mr. Wilson, sir. I wanted to tell your mon +somethin' aboot t' Maister." + +"We've no time to listen to gossip, my boy. We know all about the +Master." + +"But thou doant, sir. Nobody knows but me and mother, and we thought as +we'd like thy mon to know, sir, for we want him to fair bray him." + +"Oh, you want the Master fair brayed, do you? So do we. Well, what have +you to say?" + +"Is this your mon, sir?" + +"Well, suppose it is?" + +"Then it's him I want to tell aboot it. T' Maister is blind o' the left +eye." + +"Nonsense!" + +"It's true, sir. Not stone blind, but rarely fogged. He keeps it secret, +but mother knows, and so do I. If thou slip him on the left side he +can't cop thee. Thou'll find it right as I tell thee. And mark him when +he sinks his right. 'Tis his best blow, his right upper-cut. T' +Maister's finisher, they ca' it at t' works. It's a turble blow, when it +do come home." + +"Thank you, my boy. This is information worth having about his sight," +said Wilson. "How came you to know so much? Who are you?" + +"I'm his son, sir." + +Wilson whistled. + +"And who sent you to us?" + +"My mother. I maun get back to her again." + +"Take this half-crown." + +"No, sir, I don't seek money in comin' here. I do it----" + +"For love?" suggested the publican. + +"For hate!" said the boy, and darted off into the darkness. + +"Seems to me t' red-headed wench may do him more harm than good, after +all," remarked the publican. "And now, Mr. Montgomery, sir, you've done +enough for this evenin', an' a nine hours' sleep is the best trainin' +before a battle. Happen this time to-morrow night you'll be safe back +again with your L100 in your pocket." + + + + +II + + +Work was struck at one o'clock at the coal-pits and the iron-works, and +the fight was arranged for three. From the Croxley Furnaces, from +Wilson's Coal-pits, from the Heartsease Mine, from the Dodd Mills, from +the Leverworth Smelters the workmen came trooping, each with his +fox-terrier or his lurcher at his heels. Warped with labour and twisted +by toil, bent double by week-long work in the cramped coal galleries, or +half-blinded with years spent in front of white-hot fluid metal, these +men still gilded their harsh and hopeless lives by their devotion to +sport. It was their one relief, the only thing which could distract +their mind from sordid surroundings, and give them an interest beyond +the blackened circle which inclosed them. Literature, art, science, all +these things were beyond the horizon; but the race, the football match, +the cricket, the fight, these were things which they could understand, +which they could speculate upon in advance and comment upon afterwards. +Sometimes brutal, sometimes grotesque, the love of sport is still one +of the great agencies which make for the happiness of our people. It +lies very deeply in the springs of our nature, and when it has been +educated out, a higher, more refined nature may be left, but it will not +be of that robust British type which has left its mark so deeply on the +world. Every one of these ruddled workers, slouching with his dog at his +heels to see something of the fight, was a true unit of his race. + +It was a squally May day, with bright sun-bursts and driving showers. +Montgomery worked all morning in the surgery getting his medicine made +up. + +"The weather seems so very unsettled, Mr. Montgomery," remarked the +doctor, "that I am inclined to think that you had better postpone your +little country excursion until a later date." + +"I am afraid that I must go to-day, sir." + +"I have just had an intimation that Mrs. Potter, at the other side of +Angleton, wishes to see me. It is probable that I shall be there all +day. It will be extremely inconvenient to leave the house empty so +long." + +"I am very sorry, sir, but I must go," said the assistant, doggedly. + +The doctor saw that it would be useless to argue, and departed in the +worst of bad tempers upon his mission. Montgomery felt easier now that +he was gone. He went up to his room, and packed his running-shoes, his +fighting-drawers, and his cricket-sash into a handbag. When he came down +Mr. Wilson was waiting for him in the surgery. + +"I hear the doctor has gone." + +"Yes; he is likely to be away all day." + +"I don't see that it matters much. It's bound to come to his ears by +to-night." + +"Yes; it's serious with me, Mr. Wilson. If I win, it's all right. I +don't mind telling you that the hundred pounds will make all the +difference to me. But if I lose, I shall lose my situation, for, as you +say, I can't keep it secret." + +"Never mind. We'll see you through among us. I only wonder the doctor +has not heard, for it's all over the country that you are to fight the +Croxley Champion. We've had Armitage up about it already. He's the +Master's backer, you know. He wasn't sure that you were eligible. The +Master said he wanted you whether you were eligible or not. Armitage has +money on, and would have made trouble if he could. But I showed him that +you came within the conditions of the challenge, and he agreed that it +was all right. They think they have a soft thing on." + +"Well, I can only do my best," said Montgomery. + +They lunched together; a silent and rather nervous repast, for +Montgomery's mind was full of what was before him, and Wilson had +himself more money at stake than he cared to lose. + +Wilson's carriage and pair were at the door, the horses with +blue-and-white rosettes at their ears, which were the colours of the +Wilson Coal-pits, well known on many a football field. At the avenue +gate a crowd of some hundred pit-men and their wives gave a cheer as the +carriage passed. To the assistant it all seemed dream-like and +extraordinary--the strangest experience of his life, but with a thrill +of human action and interest in it which made it passionately absorbing. +He lay back in the open carriage and saw the fluttering handkerchiefs +from the doors and windows of the miners' cottages. Wilson had pinned a +blue-and-white rosette upon his coat, and every one knew him as their +champion. "Good luck, sir! good luck to thee!" they shouted from the +roadside. He felt that it was like some unromantic knight riding down to +sordid lists, but there was something of chivalry in it all the same. He +fought for others as well as for himself. He might fail from want of +skill or strength, but deep in his sombre soul he vowed that it should +never be for want of heart. + +Mr. Fawcett was just mounting into his high-wheeled, spidery dogcart, +with his little bit of blood between the shafts. He waved his whip and +fell in behind the carriage. They overtook Purvis, the tomato-faced +publican, upon the road, with his wife in her Sunday bonnet. They also +dropped into the procession, and then, as they traversed the seven miles +of the high-road to Croxley, their two-horsed, rosetted carriage became +gradually the nucleus of a comet with a loosely radiating tail. From +every side-road came the miners' carts, the humble, ramshackle traps, +black and bulging, with their loads of noisy, foul-tongued, open-hearted +partisans. They trailed for a long quarter of a mile behind +them--cracking, whipping, shouting, galloping, swearing. Horsemen and +runners were mixed with the vehicles. And then suddenly a squad of the +Sheffield Yeomanry, who were having their annual training in those +parts, clattered and jingled out of a field, and rode as an escort to +the carriage. Through the dust-clouds round him Montgomery saw the +gleaming brass helmets, the bright coats, and the tossing heads of the +chargers, the delighted brown faces of the troopers. It was more +dream-like than ever. + +And then, as they approached the monstrous, uncouth line of +bottle-shaped buildings which marked the smelting-works of Croxley, +their long, writhing snake of dust was headed off by another but longer +one which wound across their path. The main-road into which their own +opened was filled by the rushing current of traps. The Wilson contingent +halted until the others should get past. The iron-men cheered and +groaned, according to their humour, as they whirled past their +antagonist. Rough chaff flew back and forwards like iron nuts and +splinters of coal. "Brought him up, then!" "Got t' hearse for to fetch +him back?" "Where's t' owd K-legs?" "Mon, mon, have thy photograph +took--'twill mind thee of what thou used to look!" "He fight?--he's +now't but a half-baked doctor!" "Happen he'll doctor thy Croxley +Champion afore he's through wi't." + +So they flashed at each other as the one side waited and the other +passed. Then there came a rolling murmur swelling into a shout, and a +great break with four horses came clattering along, all streaming with +salmon-pink ribbons. The driver wore a white hat with pink rosette, and +beside him, on the high seat, were a man and a woman--she with her arm +round his waist. Montgomery had one glimpse of them as they flashed +past: he with a furry cap drawn low over his brow, a great frieze coat, +and a pink comforter round his throat; she brazen, red-headed, +bright-coloured, laughing excitedly. The Master, for it was he, turned +as he passed, gazed hard at Montgomery, and gave him a menacing, +gap-toothed grin. It was a hard, wicked face, blue-jowled and craggy, +with long, obstinate cheeks and inexorable eyes. The break behind was +full of patrons of the sport--flushed iron-foremen, heads of +departments, managers. One was drinking from a metal flask, and raised +it to Montgomery as he passed; and then the crowd thinned, and the +Wilson _cortege_ with their dragoons swept in at the rear of the others. + +The road led away from Croxley, between curving green hills, gashed and +polluted by the searchers for coal and iron. The whole country had been +gutted, and vast piles of refuse and mountains of slag suggested the +mighty chambers which the labor of man had burrowed beneath. On the left +the road curved up to where a huge building, roofless and dismantled, +stood crumbling and forlorn, with the light shining through the +windowless squares. + +"That's the old Arrowsmith's factory. That's where the fight is to be," +said Wilson. "How are you feeling now?" + +"Thank you. I was never better in my life," Montgomery answered. + +"By Gad, I like your nerve!" said Wilson, who was himself flushed and +uneasy. "You'll give us a fight for our money, come what may. That +place on the right is the office, and that has been set aside as the +dressing and weighing-room." + +The carriage drove up to it amidst the shouts of the folk upon the +hillside. Lines of empty carriages and traps curved down upon the +winding road, and a black crowd surged round the door of the ruined +factory. The seats, as a huge placard announced, were five shillings, +three shillings, and a shilling, with half-price for dogs. The takings, +deducting expenses, were to go to the winner, and it was already evident +that a larger stake than a hundred pounds was in question. A babel of +voices rose from the door. The workers wished to bring their dogs in +free. The men scuffled. The dogs barked. The crowd was a whirling, +eddying pool surging with a roar up to the narrow cleft which was its +only outlet. + +The break, with its salmon-coloured streamers and four reeking horses, +stood empty before the door of the office; Wilson, Purvis, Fawcett, and +Montgomery passed in. + +There was a large, bare room inside with square, clean patches upon the +grimy walls, where pictures and almanacs had once hung. Worn linoleum +covered the floor, but there was no furniture save some benches and a +deal table with a ewer and a basin upon it. Two of the corners were +curtained off. In the middle of the room was a weighing-chair. A hugely +fat man, with a salmon tie and a blue waist-coat with bird's-eye spots, +came bustling up to them. It was Armitage, the butcher and grazier, well +known for miles round as a warm man, and the most liberal patron of +sport in the Riding. + +"Well, well," he grunted, in a thick, fussy, wheezy voice, "you have +come, then. Got your man? Got your man?" + +"Here he is, fit and well. Mr. Montgomery, let me present you to Mr. +Armitage." + +"Glad to meet you, sir. Happy to make your acquaintance. I make bold to +say, sir, that we of Croxley admire your courage, Mr. Montgomery, and +that our only hope is a fair fight and no favour and the best man win. +That's our sentiment at Croxley." + +"And it is my sentiment also," said the assistant. + +"Well, you can't say fairer than that, Mr. Montgomery. You've taken a +large contrac' in hand, but a large contrac' may be carried through, +sir, as any one that knows my dealings could testify. The Master is +ready to weigh in!" + +"So am I." + +"You must weigh in the buff." + +Montgomery looked askance at the tall, red-headed woman who was +standing gazing out of the window. + +"That's all right," said Wilson. "Get behind the curtain and put on your +fighting-kit." + +He did so, and came out the picture of an athlete, in white, loose +drawers, canvas shoes, and the sash of a well-known cricket club round +his waist. He was trained to a hair, his skin gleaming like silk, and +every muscle rippling down his broad shoulders and along his beautiful +arms as he moved them. They bunched into ivory knobs, or slid into long, +sinuous curves, as he raised or lowered his hands. + +"What thinkest thou o' that?" asked Ted Barton, his second, of the woman +in the window. + +She glanced contemptuously at the young athlete. + +"It's but a poor kindness thou dost him to put a thread-paper yoong +gentleman like yon against a mon as is a mon. Why, my Jock would +throttle him wi' one hond lashed behind him." + +"Happen he may--happen not," said Barton. "I have but twa pund in the +world, but it's on him, every penny, and no hedgin'. But here's t' +Maister, and rarely fine he do look." + +The prize-fighter had come out from his curtain, a squat, formidable +figure, monstrous in chest and arms, limping slightly on his distorted +leg. His skin had none of the freshness and clearness of Montgomery's, +but was dusky and mottled, with one huge mole amid the mat of tangled +black hair which thatched his mighty breast. His weight bore no relation +to his strength, for those huge shoulders and great arms, with brown, +sledge-hammer fists, would have fitted the heaviest man that ever threw +his cap into a ring. But his loins and legs were slight in proportion. +Montgomery, on the other hand, was as symmetrical as a Greek statue. It +would be an encounter between a man who was specially fitted for one +sport, and one who was equally capable of any. The two looked curiously +at each other: a bulldog, and a high-bred, clean-limbed terrier, each +full of spirit. + +"How do you do?" + +"How do?" The Master grinned again, and his three jagged front teeth +gleamed for an instant. The rest had been beaten out of him in twenty +years of battle. He spat upon the floor. "We have a rare fine day +for't." + +"Capital," said Montgomery. + +"That's the good feelin' I like," wheezed the fat butcher. "Good lads, +both of them!--prime lads!--hard meat an' good bone. There's no +ill-feelin'." + +"If he downs me, Gawd bless him!" said the Master. + +"An' if we down him, Gawd help him!" interrupted the woman. + +"Haud thy tongue, wench!" said the Master, impatiently. "Who art thou to +put in thy word? Happen I might draw my hand across thy face." + +The woman did not take the threat amiss. + +"Wilt have enough for thy hand to do, Jock," said she. "Get quit o' this +gradely man afore thou turn on me." + +The lovers' quarrel was interrupted by the entrance of a new comer, a +gentleman with a fur-collared overcoat and a very shiny top-hat--a +top-hat of a degree of glossiness which is seldom seen five miles from +Hyde Park. This hat he wore at the extreme back of his head, so that the +lower surface of the brim made a kind of frame for his high, bald +forehead, his keen eyes, his rugged and yet kindly face. He bustled in +with the quiet air of possession with which the ring-master enters the +circus. + +"It's Mr. Stapleton, the referee from London," said Wilson. + +"How do you do, Mr. Stapleton? I was introduced to you at the big fight +at the Corinthian Club, in Piccadilly." + +"Ah, I dare say," said the other, shaking hands. "Fact is, I'm +introduced to so many that I can't undertake to carry their names. +Wilson, is it? Well, Mr. Wilson, glad to see you. Couldn't get a fly at +the station, and that's why I'm late." + +"I'm sure, sir," said Armitage, "we should be proud that any one so well +known in the boxing world should come down to our little exhibition." + +"Not at all. Not at all. Anything in the interests of boxin'. All ready? +Men weighed?" + +"Weighing now, sir." + +"Ah, just as well I should see it done. Seen you before, Craggs. Saw you +fight your second battle against Willox. You had beaten him once, but he +came back on you. What does the indicator say?--one hundred and +sixty-three pounds--two off for the kit--one hundred and sixty-one. Now, +my lad, you jump. My goodness, what colours are you wearing?" + +"The Anonymi Cricket Club." + +"What right have you to wear them? I belong to the club myself." + +"So do I." + +"You an amateur?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And you are fighting for a money prize?" + +"Yes." + +"I suppose you know what you are doing? You realize that you're a +professional pug from this onwards, and that if ever you fight +again----" + +"I'll never fight again." + +"Happen you won't," said the woman, and the Master turned a terrible eye +upon her. + +"Well, I suppose you know your own business best. Up you jump. One +hundred and fifty-one, minus two, one hundred and forty-nine--twelve +pounds difference, but youth and condition on the other scale. Well, the +sooner we get to work the better, for I wish to catch the seven o'clock +express at Hellifield. Twenty three-minute rounds, with one-minute +intervals, and Queensberry rules. Those are the conditions, are they +not?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very good, then, we may go across." + +The two combatants had overcoats thrown over their shoulders, and the +whole party, backers, fighters, seconds, and the referee, filed out of +the room. A police inspector was waiting for them in the road. He had a +notebook in his hand--that terrible weapon which awes even the London +cabman. + +"I must take your names, gentlemen, in case it should be necessary to +proceed for breach of peace." + +"You don't mean to stop the fight?" cried Armitage, in a passion of +indignation. "I'm Mr. Armitage, of Croxley, and this is Mr. Wilson, and +we'll be responsible that all is fair and as it should be.' + +"I'll take the names in case it should be necessary to proceed," said +the inspector, impassively. + +"But you know me well." + +"If you was a dook or even a judge it would be all the same," said the +inspector. "It's the law, and there's an end. I'll not take upon myself +to stop the fight, seeing that gloves are to be used, but I'll take the +names of all concerned. Silas Craggs, Robert Montgomery, Edward Barton, +James Stapleton, of London. Who seconds Silas Craggs?" + +"I do," said the woman. "Yes, you can stare, but it's my job, and no one +else's. Anastasia's the name--four a's." + +"Craggs?" + +"Johnson. Anastasia Johnson. If you jug him, you can jug me." + +"Who talked of juggin', ye fool?" growled the Master. "Coom on, Mr. +Armitage, for I'm fair sick o' this loiterin'." + +The inspector fell in with the procession, and proceeded, as they walked +up the hill, to bargain in his official capacity for a front seat, where +he could safeguard the interests of the law, and in his private capacity +to lay out thirty shillings at seven to one with Mr. Armitage. Through +the door they passed, down a narrow lane walled with a dense bank of +humanity, up a wooden ladder to a platform, over a rope which was slung +waist-high from four corner-stakes, and then Montgomery realized that he +was in that ring in which his immediate destiny was to be worked out. On +the stake at one corner there hung a blue-and-white streamer. Barton led +him across, the overcoat dangling loosely from his shoulders, and he sat +down on a wooden stool. Barton and another man, both wearing white +sweaters, stood beside him. The so-called ring was a square, twenty feet +each way. At the opposite angle was the sinister figure of the Master, +with his red-headed woman and a rough-faced friend to look after him. At +each corner were metal basins, pitchers of water, and sponges. + +During the hubbub and uproar of the entrance Montgomery was too +bewildered to take things in. But now there was a few minutes' delay, +for the referee had lingered behind, and so he looked quietly about him. +It was a sight to haunt him for a lifetime. Wooden seats had been built +in, sloping upwards to the tops of the walls. Above, instead of a +ceiling, a great flight of crows passed slowly across a square of grey +cloud. Right up to the top-most benches the folk were banked--broadcloth +in front, corduroys and fustian behind; faces turned everywhere upon +him. The grey reek of the pipes filled the building, and the air was +pungent with the acrid smell of cheap, strong tobacco. Everywhere among +the human faces were to be seen the heads of the dogs. They growled and +yapped from the back benches. In that dense mass of humanity one could +hardly pick out individuals, but Montgomery's eyes caught the brazen +gleam of the helmets held upon the knees of the ten yeomen of his +escort. At the very edge of the platform sat the reporters, five of +them: three locals, and two all the way from London. But where was the +all-important referee? There was no sign of him, unless he were in the +centre of that angry swirl of men near the door. + +Mr. Stapleton had stopped to examine the gloves which were to be used, +and entered the building after the combatants. He had started to come +down that narrow lane with the human walls which led to the ring. But +already it had gone abroad that the Wilson champion was a gentleman, and +that another gentleman had been appointed as referee. A wave of +suspicion passed through the Croxley folk. They would have one of their +own people for a referee. They would not have a stranger. His path was +stopped as he made for the ring. Excited men flung themselves in front +of him; they waved their fists in his face and cursed him. A woman +howled vile names in his ear. Somebody struck at him with an umbrella. +"Go thou back to Lunnon. We want noan o' thee. Go thou back!" they +yelled. + +Stapleton, with his shiny hat cocked backwards, and his large, bulging +forehead swelling from under it, looked round him from beneath his bushy +brows. He was in the centre of a savage and dangerous mob. Then he drew +his watch from his pocket and held it dial upwards in his palm. + +"In three minutes," said he, "I will declare the fight off." + +They raged round him. His cool face and that aggressive top-hat +irritated them. Grimy hands were raised. But it was difficult, somehow, +to strike a man who was so absolutely indifferent. + +"In two minutes I declare the fight off." + +They exploded into blasphemy. The breath of angry men smoked into his +placid face. A gnarled, grimy fist vibrated at the end of his nose. "We +tell thee we want noan o' thee. Get thou back where thou com'st from." + +"In one minute I declare the fight off." + +Then the calm persistence of the man conquered the swaying, mutable, +passionate crowd. + +"Let him through, mon. Happen there'll be no fight after a'." + +"Let him through." + +"Bill, thou loomp, let him pass. Dost want the fight declared off?" + +"Make room for the referee!--room for the Lunnon referee!" + +And half pushed, half carried, he was swept up to the ring. There were +two chairs by the side of it, one for him and one for the timekeeper. He +sat down, his hands on his knees, his hat at a more wonderful angle than +ever, impassive but solemn, with the aspect of one who appreciates his +responsibilities. + +Mr. Armitage, the portly butcher, made his way into the ring and held up +two fat hands, sparkling with rings, as a signal for silence. + +"Gentlemen!" he yelled. And then in a crescendo shriek, "Gentlemen!" + +"And ladies!" cried somebody, for indeed there was a fair sprinkling of +women among the crowd. "Speak up, owd man!" shouted another. "What price +pork chops?" cried somebody at the back. Everybody laughed, and the dogs +began to bark. Armitage waved his hands amidst the uproar as if he were +conducting an orchestra. At last the babel thinned into silence. + +"Gentlemen," he yelled, "the match is between Silas Craggs, whom we call +the Master of Croxley, and Robert Montgomery, of the Wilson Coal-pits. +The match was to be under eleven-eight. When they were weighed just now +Craggs weighed eleven-seven, and Montgomery ten-nine. The conditions of +the contest are--the best of twenty three-minute rounds with two-ounce +gloves. Should the fight run to its full length it will, of course, be +decided upon points. Mr. Stapleton, the well-known London referee, has +kindly consented to see fair play. I wish to say that Mr. Wilson and I, +the chief backers of the two men, have every confidence in Mr. +Stapleton, and that we beg that you will accept his rulings without +dispute." + +He then turned from one combatant to the other, with a wave of his +hand. + + + + +III + + +"Montgomery--Craggs!" said he. + +A great hush fell over the huge assembly. Even the dogs stopped yapping; +one might have thought that the monstrous room was empty. The two men +had stood up, the small white gloves over their hands. They advanced +from their corners and shook hands: Montgomery, gravely, Craggs with a +smile. Then they fell into position. The crowd gave a long sigh--the +intake of a thousand excited breaths. The referee tilted his chair on to +its back legs, and looked moodily critical from the one to the other. + +It was strength against activity--that was evident from the first. The +Master stood stolidly upon his K-leg. It gave him a tremendous pedestal; +one could hardly imagine his being knocked down. And he could pivot +round upon it with extraordinary quickness; but his advance or retreat +was ungainly. His frame, however, was so much larger and broader than +that of the student, and his brown, massive face looked so resolute and +menacing, that the hearts of the Wilson party sank within them. There +was one heart, however, which had not done so. It was that of Robert +Montgomery. + +Any nervousness which he may have had completely passed away now that he +had his work before him. Here was something definite--this hard-faced, +deformed Hercules to beat, with a career as the price of beating him. He +glowed with the joy of action; it thrilled through his nerves. He faced +his man with little in-and-out steps, breaking to the left, breaking to +the right, feeling his way, while Craggs, with a dull, malignant eye, +pivoted slowly upon his weak leg, his left arm half extended, his right +sunk low across the mark. Montgomery led with his left, and then led +again, getting lightly home each time. He tried again, but the Master +had his counter ready, and Montgomery reeled back from a harder blow +than he had given. Anastasia, the woman, gave a shrill cry of +encouragement, and her man let fly his right. Montgomery ducked under +it, and in an instant the two were in each other's arms. + +"Break away! Break away!" said the referee. + +The Master struck upwards on the break, and shook Montgomery with the +blow. Then it was "time." It had been a spirited opening round. The +people buzzed into comment and applause. Montgomery was quite fresh, but +the hairy chest of the Master was rising and falling. The man passed a +sponge over his head, while Anastasia flapped the towel before him. +"Good lass! Good lass!" cried the crowd, and cheered her. + +The men were up again, the Master grimly watchful, Montgomery as alert +as a kitten. The Master tried a sudden rush, squattering along with his +awkward gait, but coming faster than one would think. The student +slipped aside and avoided him. The Master stopped, grinned, and shook +his head. Then he motioned with his hand as an invitation to Montgomery +to come to him. The student did so and led with his left, but got a +swinging right counter in the ribs in exchange. The heavy blow staggered +him, and the Master came scrambling in to complete his advantage; but +Montgomery, with his greater activity, kept out of danger until the call +of "time." A tame round, and the advantage with the Master. + +"T' Maister's too strong for him," said a smelter to his neighbour. + +"Ay; but t'other's a likely lad. Happen we'll see some sport yet. He can +joomp rarely." + +"But t' Maister can stop and hit rarely. Happen he'll mak' him joomp +when he gets his nief upon him." + +They were up again, the water glistening upon their faces. Montgomery +led instantly and got his right home with a sounding smack upon the +Master's forehead. There was a shout from the colliers, and "Silence! +Order!" from the referee. Montgomery avoided the counter and scored with +his left. Fresh applause, and the referee upon his feet in indignation. +"No comments, gentlemen, if _you_ please, during the rounds." + +"Just bide a bit!" growled the Master. + +"Don't talk--fight!" said the referee, angrily. + +Montgomery rubbed in the point by a flush hit upon the mouth, and the +Master shambled back to his corner like an angry bear, having had all +the worst of the round. + +"Where's thot seven to one?" shouted Purvis, the publican. "I'll take +six to one!" + +There were no answers. + +"Five to one!" There were givers at that. Purvis booked them in a +tattered notebook. + +Montgomery began to feel happy. He lay back with his legs outstretched, +his back against the corner-post, and one gloved hand upon each rope. +What a delicious minute it was between each round. If he could only keep +out of harm's way, he must surely wear this man out before the end of +twenty rounds. He was so slow that all his strength went for nothing. +"You're fightin' a winnin' fight--a winnin' fight," Ted Barton whispered +in his ear. "Go canny; tak' no chances; you have him proper." + +But the Master was crafty. He had fought so many battles with his maimed +limb that he knew how to make the best of it. Warily and slowly he +manoeuvred round Montgomery, stepping forward and yet again forward +until he had imperceptibly backed him into his corner. The student +suddenly saw a flash of triumph upon the grim face, and a gleam in the +dull, malignant eyes. The Master was upon him. He sprang aside and was +on the ropes. The Master smashed in one of his terrible upper-cuts, and +Montgomery half broke it with his guard. The student sprang the other +way and was against the other converging rope. He was trapped in the +angle. The Master sent in another, with a hoggish grunt which spoke of +the energy behind it. Montgomery ducked, but got a jab from the left +upon the mark. He closed with his man. "Break away! Break away?" cried +the referee. Montgomery disengaged, and got a swinging blow on the ear +as he did so. It had been a damaging round for him, and the Croxley +people were shouting their delight. + +"Gentlemen, I will _not_ have this noise!" Stapleton roared. "I have +been accustomed to preside at a well-conducted club, and not at a +bear-garden." This little man, with the tilted hat and the bulging +forehead, dominated the whole assembly. He was like a headmaster among +his boys. He glared round him, and nobody cared to meet his eye. + +Anastasia had kissed the Master when he resumed his seat. "Good lass. +Do't again!" cried the laughing crowd, and the angry Master shook his +glove at her, as she flapped her towel in front of him. Montgomery was +weary and a little sore, but not depressed. He had learned something. He +would not again be tempted into danger. + +For three rounds the honours were fairly equal. The student's hitting +was the quicker, the Master's the harder. Profiting by his lesson, +Montgomery kept himself in the open, and refused to be herded into a +corner. Sometimes the Master succeeded in rushing him to the side-ropes, +but the younger man slipped away, or closed and then disengaged. The +monotonous "Break away! Break away!" of the referee broke in upon the +quick, low patter of rubber-soled shoes, the dull thud of the blows, and +the sharp, hissing breath of two tired men. + +The ninth round found both of them in fairly good condition. +Montgomery's head was still singing from the blow that he had in the +corner, and one of his thumbs pained him acutely and seemed to be +dislocated. The Master showed no sign of a touch, but his breathing was +the more laboured, and a long line of ticks upon the referee's paper +showed that the student had a good show of points. But one of this +iron-man's blows was worth three of his, and he knew that without the +gloves he could not have stood for three rounds against him. All the +amateur work that he had done was the merest tapping and flapping when +compared to those frightful blows, from arms toughened by the shovel and +the crowbar. + +It was the tenth round, and the fight was half over. The betting now was +only three to one, for the Wilson champion had held his own much better +than had been expected. But those who knew the ringcraft as well as the +staying power of the old prize-fighter knew that the odds were still a +long way in his favour. + +"Have a care of him!" whispered Barton, as he sent his man up to the +scratch. "Have a care! He'll play thee a trick, if he can." + +But Montgomery saw, or imagined he saw, that his antagonist was tiring. +He looked jaded and listless, and his hands drooped a little from their +position. His own youth and condition were beginning to tell. He sprang +in and brought off a fine left-handed lead. The Master's return lacked +his usual fire. Again Montgomery led, and again he got home. Then he +tried his right upon the mark, and the Master guarded it downwards. + +"Too low! Too low! A foul! A foul!" yelled a thousand voices. + +The referee rolled his sardonic eyes slowly round. "Seems to me this +buildin' is chock-full of referees," said he. + +The people laughed and applauded, but their favour was as immaterial to +him as their anger. + +"No applause, please! This is not a theatre!" he yelled. + +Montgomery was very pleased with himself. His adversary was evidently in +a bad way. He was piling on his points and establishing a lead. He might +as well make hay while the sun shone. The Master was looking all abroad. +Montgomery popped one upon his blue jowl and got away without a return. +And then the Master suddenly dropped both his hands and began rubbing +his thigh. Ah! that was it, was it? He had muscular cramp. + +"Go in! Go in!" cried Teddy Barton. + +Montgomery sprang wildly forward, and the next instant was lying half +senseless, with his neck nearly broken, in the middle of the ring. + +The whole round had been a long conspiracy to tempt him within reach of +one of those terrible right-hand upper-cuts for which the Master was +famous. For this the listless, weary bearing, for this the cramp in the +thigh. When Montgomery had sprang in so hotly he had exposed himself to +such a blow as neither flesh nor blood could stand. Whizzing up from +below with a rigid arm, which put the Master's eleven stone into its +force, it struck him under the jaw: he whirled half round, and fell a +helpless and half-paralyzed mass. A vague groan and murmur, +inarticulate, too excited for words, rose from the great audience. With +open mouths and staring eyes they gazed at the twitching and quivering +figure. + +"Stand back! Stand right back!" shrieked the referee, for the Master was +standing over his man ready to give him the _coup-de-grace_ as he rose. + +"Stand back, Craggs, this instant!" Stapleton repeated. + +The Master sank his hands sulkily and walked backwards to the rope with +his ferocious eyes fixed upon his fallen antagonist. The timekeeper +called the seconds. If ten of them passed before Montgomery rose to his +feet, the fight was ended. Ted Barton wrung his hands and danced about +in an agony in his corner. + +As if in a dream--a terrible nightmare--the student could hear the +voice of the timekeeper--three--four--five--he got up on his +hand--six--seven--he was on his knee, sick, swimming, faint, but +resolute to rise. Eight--he was up, and the Master was on him like a +tiger, lashing savagely at him with both hands. Folk held their breath +as they watched those terrible blows, and anticipated the pitiful +end--so much more pitiful where a game but helpless man refuses to +accept defeat. + +Strangely automatic is the human brain. Without volition, without +effort, there shot into the memory of this bewildered, staggering, +half-stupefied man the one thing which could have saved him--that blind +eye of which the Master's son had spoken. It was the same as the other +to look at, but Montgomery remembered that he had said that it was the +left. He reeled to the left side, half felled by a drive which lit upon +his shoulder. The Master pivoted round upon his leg and was at him in an +instant. + +"Yark him, lad! yark him!" screamed the woman. + +"Hold your tongue!" said the referee. + +Montgomery slipped to the left again and yet again; but the Master was +too quick and clever for him. He struck round and got him full on the +face as he tried once more to break away. Montgomery's knees weakened +under him, and he fell with a groan on the floor. This time he knew that +he was done. With bitter agony he realized, as he groped blindly with +his hands, that he could not possibly raise himself. Far away and +muffled he heard, amid the murmurs of the multitude, the fateful voice +of the timekeeper counting off the seconds. + +"One--two--three--four--five--six----" + +"Time!" said the referee. + +Then the pent-up passion of the great assembly broke loose. Croxley gave +a deep groan of disappointment. The Wilsons were on their feet, yelling +with delight. There was still a chance for them. In four more seconds +their man would have been solemnly counted out. But now he had a minute +in which to recover. The referee looked round with relaxed features and +laughing eyes. He loved this rough game, this school for humble heroes, +and it was pleasant to him to intervene as a _Deux ex machina_ at so +dramatic a moment. His chair and his hat were both tilted at an extreme +angle; he and the timekeeper smiled at each other. Ted Barton and the +other second had rushed out and thrust an arm each under Montgomery's +knee, the other behind his loins, and so carried him back to his stool. +His head lolled upon his shoulder, but a douche of cold water sent a +shiver through him, and he started and looked round him. + +"He's a' right!" cried the people round. "He's a rare brave lad. Good +lad! Good lad!" Barton poured some brandy into his mouth. The mists +cleared a little, and he realized where he was and what he had to do. +But he was still very weak, and he hardly dared to hope that he could +survive another round. + +"Seconds out of the ring!" cried the referee. "Time!" + +The Croxley Master sprang eagerly off his stool. + +"Keep clear of him! Go easy for a bit," said Barton, and Montgomery +walked out to meet his man once more. + +He had had two lessons--the one when the Master got him into his corner, +the other when he had been lured into mixing it up with so powerful an +antagonist. Now he would be wary. Another blow would finish him; he +could afford to run no risks. The Master was determined to follow up his +advantage, and rushed at him, slogging furiously right and left. But +Montgomery was too young and active to be caught. He was strong upon his +legs once more, and his wits had all come back to him. It was a gallant +sight--the line-of-battleship trying to pour its overwhelming broadside +into the frigate, and the frigate manoeuvring always so as to avoid it. +The Master tried all his ring-craft. He coaxed the student up by +pretended inactivity; he rushed at him with furious rushes towards the +ropes. For three rounds he exhausted every wile in trying to get at him. +Montgomery during all this time was conscious that his strength was +minute by minute coming back to him. The spinal jar from an upper-cut is +overwhelming, but evanescent. He was losing all sense of it beyond a +great stiffness of the neck. For the first round after his downfall he +had been content to be entirely on the defensive, only too happy if he +could stall off the furious attacks of the Master. In the second he +occasionally ventured upon a light counter. In the third he was smacking +back merrily where he saw an opening. His people yelled their approval +of him at the end of every round. Even the iron-workers cheered him with +that fine unselfishness which true sport engenders. To most of them, +unspiritual and unimaginative, the sight of this clean-limbed young +Apollo, rising above disaster and holding on while consciousness was in +him to his appointed task, was the greatest thing their experience had +ever known. + +But the Master's naturally morose temper became more and more murderous +at this postponement of his hopes. Three rounds ago the battle had been +in his hands; now it was all to do over again. Round by round his man +was recovering his strength. By the fifteenth he was strong again in +wind and limb. But the vigilant Anastasia saw something which encouraged +her. + +"That bash in t' ribs is telling on him, Jock," she whispered. "Why else +should he be gulping t' brandy? Go in, lad, and thou hast him yet." + +Montgomery had suddenly taken the flask from Barton's hand, and had a +deep pull at the contents. Then, with his face a little flushed, and +with a curious look of purpose, which made the referee stare hard at +him, in his eyes, he rose for the sixteenth round. + +"Game as a pairtridge!" cried the publican, as he looked at the hard-set +face. + +"Mix it oop, lad; mix it oop!" cried the iron-men to their Master. + +And then a hum of exultation ran through their ranks as they realized +that their tougher, harder, stronger man held the vantage, after all. + +Neither of the men showed much sign of punishment. Small gloves crush +and numb, but they do not cut. One of the Master's eyes was even more +flush with his cheek than Nature had made it. Montgomery had two or +three livid marks upon his body, and his face was haggard, save for that +pink spot which the brandy had brought into either cheek. He rocked a +little as he stood opposite his man, and his hands drooped as if he +felt the gloves to be an unutterable weight. It was evident that he was +spent and desperately weary. If he received one other blow it must +surely be fatal to him. If he brought one home, what power could there +be behind it, and what chance was there of its harming the colossus in +front of him? It was the crisis of the fight. This round must decide it. +"Mix it oop, lad; mix it oop!" the iron-men whooped. Even the savage +eyes of the referee were unable to restrain the excited crowd. + +Now, at last, the chance had come for Montgomery. He had learned a +lesson from his more experienced rival. Why should he not play his own +game upon him? He was spent, but not nearly so spent as he pretended. +That brandy was to call up his reserves, to let him have strength to +take full advantage of the opening when it came. It was thrilling and +tingling through his veins, at the very moment when he was lurching and +rocking like a beaten man. He acted his part admirably. The Master felt +that there was an easy task before him, and rushed in with ungainly +activity to finish it once for all. He slap-banged away left and right, +boring Montgomery up against the ropes, swinging in his ferocious blows +with those animal grunts which told of the vicious energy behind them. + +But Montgomery was too cool to fall a victim to any of those murderous +upper-cuts. He kept out of harm's way with a rigid guard, an active +foot, and a head which was swift to duck. And yet he contrived to +present the same appearance of a man who is hopelessly done. The Master, +weary from his own shower of blows, and fearing nothing from so weak a +man, dropped his hand for an instant, and at that instant Montgomery's +right came home. + +It was a magnificent blow, straight, clean, crisp, with the force of the +loins and the back behind it. And it landed where he had meant it +to--upon the exact point of that blue-grained chin. Flesh and blood +could not stand such a blow in such a place. Neither valour nor +hardihood can save the man to whom it comes. The Master fell backwards, +flat, prostrate, striking the ground with so simultaneous a clap that it +was like a shutter falling from a wall. A yell which no referee could +control broke from the crowded benches as the giant went down. He lay +upon his back, his knees a little drawn up, his huge chest panting. He +twitched and shook, but could not move. His feet pawed convulsively once +or twice. It was no use. He was done. "Eight--nine--ten!" said the +timekeeper, and the roar of a thousand voices, with a deafening clap +like the broadside of a ship, told that the Master of Croxley was the +Master no more. + +Montgomery stood half dazed, looking down at the huge, prostrate figure. +He could hardly realize that it was indeed all over. He saw the referee +motion towards him with his hand. He heard his name bellowed in triumph +from every side. And then he was aware of some one rushing towards him; +he caught a glimpse of a flushed face and an aureole of flying red hair, +a gloveless fist struck him between the eyes, and he was on his back in +the ring beside his antagonist, while a dozen of his supporters were +endeavouring to secure the frantic Anastasia. He heard the angry +shouting of the referee, the screaming of the furious woman, and the +cries of the mob. Then something seemed to break like an over-stretched +banjo-string, and he sank into the deep, deep, mist-girt abyss of +unconsciousness. + +The dressing was like a thing in a dream, and so was a vision of the +Master with the grin of a bulldog upon his face, and his three teeth +amiably protruded. He shook Montgomery heartily by the hand. + +"I would have been rare pleased to shake thee by the throttle, lad, a +short while syne," said he. "But I bear no ill-feelin' again' thee. It +was a rare poonch that brought me down--I have not had a better since my +second fight wi' Billy Edwards in '89. Happen thou might think o' goin' +further wi' this business. If thou dost, and want a trainer, there's not +much inside t' ropes as I don't know. Or happen thou might like to try +it wi' me old style and bare knuckles. Thou hast but to write to t' +iron-works to find me." + +But Montgomery disclaimed any such ambition. A canvas bag with his +share--one hundred and ninety sovereigns--was handed to him, of which he +gave ten to the Master, who also received some share of the gate-money. + +Then, with young Wilson escorting him on one side, Purvis on the other, +and Fawcett carrying his bag behind, he went in triumph to his carriage, +and drove amid a long roar, which lined the highway like a hedge for the +seven miles, back to his starting-point. + +"It's the greatest thing I ever saw in my life. By George, it's +ripping!" cried Wilson, who had been left in a kind of ecstasy by the +events of the day. "There's a chap over Barnsley way who fancies himself +a bit. Let us spring you on him, and let him see what he can make of +you. We'll put up a purse--won't we, Purvis? You shall never want a +backer." + +"At his weight," said the publican, "I'm behind him, I am, for twenty +rounds, and no age, country, or color barred." + +"So am I!" cried Fawcett; "middle-weight champion of the world, that's +what he is--here, in the same carriage with us." + +But Montgomery was not to be beguiled. + +"No; I have my own work to do now." + +"And what may that be?" + +"I'll use this money to get my medical degree." + +"Well, we've plenty of doctors, but you're the only man in the Riding +that could smack the Croxley Master off his legs. However, I suppose you +know your own business best. When you're a doctor, you'd best come down +into these parts, and you'll always find a job waiting for you at the +Wilson Coal-pits." + +Montgomery had returned by devious ways to the surgery. The horses were +smoking at the door, and the doctor was just back from his long journey. +Several patients had called in his absence, and he was in the worst of +tempers. + +"I suppose I should be glad that you have come back at all, Mr. +Montgomery!" he snarled. "When next you elect to take a holiday, I +trust, it will not be at so busy a time." + +"I am sorry, sir, that you should have been inconvenienced." + +"Yes, sir, I have been exceedingly inconvenienced." Here, for the first +time, he looked hard at the assistant. "Good heavens, Mr. Montgomery, +what have you been doing with your left eye?" + +It was where Anastasia had lodged her protest. + +Montgomery laughed. "It is nothing, sir," said he. + +"And you have a livid mark under your jaw. It is, indeed, terrible that +my representative should be going about in so disreputable a condition. +How did you receive these injuries?" + +"Well, sir, as you know, there was a little glove-fight to-day over at +Croxley." + +"And you got mixed up with that brutal crowd?" + +"I _was_ rather mixed up with them." + +"And who assaulted you?" + +"One of the fighters." + +"Which of them?" + +"The Master of Croxley." + +"Good heavens! Perhaps you interfered with him?" + +"Well, to tell the truth, I did a little." + +"Mr. Montgomery, in such a practice as mine, intimately associated as it +is with the highest and most progressive elements of our small +community, it is impossible----" + +But just then the tentative bray of a cornet-player searching for his +keynote jarred upon their ears, and an instant later the Wilson Colliery +brass band was in full cry with, "See the Conquering Hero Comes," +outside the surgery window. There was a banner waving, and a shouting +crowd of miners. + +"What is it? What does it mean?" cried the angry doctor. + +"It means, sir, that I have, in the only way which was open to me, +earned the money which is necessary for my education. It is my duty, +Doctor Oldacre, to warn you that I am about to return to the University, +and that you should lose no time in appointing my successor." + +THE END + + + * * * * * + + + Transcriber Notes: + + page 44 Original: "Montgomery looked askance + + Replaced: Montgomery looked askance + + + Unchanged: + + page 60 Original: "Break away! Break away?" cried the referee. + + retained the ?, perhaps ! intended. + + page 66 a _Deux ex machina_ at so dramatic a moment. + perhaps intended Deus - left as clearly printed + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Croxley Master: A Great Tale Of +The Prize Ring, by Arthur Conan Doyle + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CROXLEY MASTER: A GREAT *** + +***** This file should be named 38443.txt or 38443.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/4/4/38443/ + +Produced by Gerard Arthus, Dianna Adair and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from scans of public domain material +produced by Microsoft for their Live Search Books site.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/38443.zip b/38443.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6a8ab73 --- /dev/null +++ b/38443.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..35dc886 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #38443 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/38443) |
