He turned partly away from her, sweeping his hand to his forehead. She knew she would hate him forever if he dared one stammered word of apology or explanation. But he seemed to have the way always of doing the right thing where she was concerned. She sank into her chair, and he into another, first drawing it around so as to face her across the corner of the desk.
"I spent last night in a Turkish bath," he said. "I sent for an old broken-down bruiser. He was a friend of my father an the old days. I knew there couldn"t be a thing about the ring he didn"t know, and I made him talk. The funny thing was that it was all I could do to convince him that I didn"t know the things I asked him about. He called me the babe in the woods. I guess he was right. I was raised in the woods, and woods is about all I know.
"Well, I received an education from that old man last night. The ring is rottener than you told me. It seems everybody connected with it is crooked. The very supervisors that grant the fight permits graft off of the promoters; and the promoters, managers, and fighters graft off each other and off the public. It"s down to a system, in one way, and on the other hand they "re always--do you know what the double cross is?" (She nodded.) "Well, they don"t seem to miss a chance to give each other the double cross.
"The stuff that old man told me took my breath away. And here I"ve been in the thick of it for several years and knew nothing of it. I was a real babe in the woods. And yet I can see how I"ve been fooled. I was so made that n.o.body could stop me. I was bound to win, and, thanks to Stubener, everything crooked was kept away from me. This morning I cornered Spider Walsh and made him talk. He was my first trainer, you know, and he followed Stubener"s instructions. They kept me in ignorance. Besides, I didn"t herd with the sporting crowd. I spent my time hunting and fishing and monkeying with cameras and such things. Do you know what Walsh and Stubener called me between themselves?--the Virgin. I only learned it this morning from Walsh, and it was like pulling teeth. And they were right. I was a little innocent lamb.
"And Stubener was using me for crookedness, too, only I didn"t know it. I can look back now and see how it was worked. But you see, I wasn"t interested enough in the game to be suspicious. I was born with a good body and a cool head, I was raised in the open, and I was taught by my father, who knew more about fighting than any man living or dead. It was too easy. The ring didn"t absorb me. There was never any doubt of the outcome. But I"m done with it now."
She pointed to the headline announcing his match with Tom Cannam.
"That"s Stubener"s work," he explained. "It was programmed months ago. But I don"t care. I"m heading for the mountains. I"ve quit."
She glanced at the unfinished interview on the desk and sighed.
"How lordly men are," she said. "Masters of destiny. They do as they please--"
"From what I"ve heard," he interrupted, "you"ve done pretty much as you please. It"s one of those things I like about you. And what struck me hard from the first was the way you and I understand each other."
He broke off and looked at her with burning eyes.
"Well, the ring did one thing for me," he went on. "It made me acquainted with you. And when you find the one woman, there"s just one thing to do. Take her in your two hands and don"t let go. Come on, let us start for the mountains."
It had come with the suddeness of a thunder-clap, and yet she felt that she had been expecting it. Her heart was beating up and almost choking her in a strangely delicious way. Here at last was the primitive and the simple with a vengeance. Then, too, it seemed a dream. Such things did not take place in modern nespaper offices. Love could not be made in such fashion; it only occurred on the stage and in novels.
He had risen, and was holding out both hands to her.
"I don"t dare," she said in a whisper, half to herself. "I don"t dare."
And thereat she was stung by the quick contempt that flashed in his eyes but that swiftly changed to open incredulity.
"You"d dare anything you wanted," he was saying. "I know that. It"s not a case of dare, but of want. Do you want?"
She had arisen, and was now swaying as if in a dream. It flashed into her mind to wonder if it were hypnotism. She wanted to glance about her at the familiar objects of the room in order to identify herself with reality, but she could not take her eys from his. Nor did she speak.
He had stepped beside her. His hand was on her arm, and she leaned toward him involuntarily. It was all part of the dream. and it was no longer hers to question anything. It was the great dare. He was right. She could dare what she wanted, and she did want. He was helping her into her jacket. She was thrusting the hat-pins through her hair. And even as she realized it, she found herself walking beside him through the opened door. The "Flight of the d.u.c.h.ess" and "The Statue and the Bust," darted through her mind. Then she remembered "Waring."
""What"s become of Waring?"" she murmured.
""Land travel or sea-faring?"" he murmured back.
And to her this kindred sufficient note was a vindication of her madness.
At the entrance of the building he raised his hand to call a taxi, but was stopped by her touch on his arm.
"Where are we going?" she breathed.
"To the Ferry. We"ve just time to catch that Sacramento train."
"But I can"t go this way," she protested. "I... I haven"t even a change of handkerchiefs."
He held up his hand again before replying.
"You can shop in Sacramento. We"ll get married there and catch the night overland north. I"ll arrange everything by telegraph from the train."
As the cab drew to the curb, she looked quickly about her at the familiar street and the familiar throng, then, with almost a flurry of alarm, into Glendon"s face.
"I don"t know a thing about you," she said.
"We know everything about each other," was his answer.
She felt the support and urge of his arms, and lifted her foot to the step. The next moment the door had closed, he was beside her, and the cab was heading down Market Street. He pa.s.sed his arm around her, drew her close, and kissed her. When next she glimpsed his face she was certain that it was dyed with a faint blush.
"I... I"ve heard there was an art in kissing," he stammered. "I don"t know anything about it myself, but I"ll learn. You see, you"re the first woman I ever kissed."
CHAPTER IX.
Where a jagged peak of rock thrust above the vast virgin forest, reclined a man and a woman. Beneath them, on the edge of the trees, were tethered two horses. Behind each saddle were a pair of small saddle-bags. The trees were monotonously huge. Towering hundreds of feet into the air, they ran from eight to ten and twelve feet in diameter. Many were much larger. All morning they had toiled up the divide through this unbroken forest, and this peak of rock had been the first spot where they could get out of the forest in order to see the forest.
Beneath them and away, far as they could see, lay range upon range of haze empurpled mountains. There was no end to these ranges. They rose only behind another to the dim, distant skyline, where they faded away with a vague promise of unending extension beyond. There were no clearings in the forest; north, south, east, and west, untouched, unbroken, it covered the land with its mighty growth.
They lay, feasting their eyes on the sight, her hand clasped in one of his; for this was their honeymoon, and these were the redwoods of Mendocino. Across from Shasta they had come, with horses and saddle-bags, and down through the wilds of the coast counties, and they had no plan except to continue until some other plan entered their heads. They were roughly dressed, she in travel-stained khaki, he in overalls and woolen shirt. The latter was open at the sunburned neck, and in his hugeness he seemed a fit dweller among the forest giants, while for her, as a dweller with him, there were no signs of aught else but happiness.
"Well, Big Man," she said, propping herself up on an elbow to gaze at him, "it is more wonderful than you promised. And we are going through it together."
"And there "s a lot of the rest of the world we"ll go through together," he answered, shifting his position so as to get her hand in both of his.
"But not till we"ve finished with this," she urged. "I seem never to grow tired of the big woods... and of you."
He slid effortlessly into a sitting posture and gathered her into his arms.
"Oh, you lover," she whispered. "And I had given up hope of finding such a one."
"And I never hoped at all. I must just have known all the time that I was going to find you. Glad?"
Her answer was a soft pressure where her hand rested on his neck, and for long minutes they looked out over the great woods and dreamed.
"You remember I told you how I ran away from the red-haired school teacher? That was the first time I saw this country. I was on foot, but forty or fifty miles a day was play for me. I was a regular Indian. I wasn"t thinking about you then. Game was pretty scarce in the redwoods, but there was plenty of fine trout. That was when I camped on these rocks. I didn"t dream that some day I"d be back with you, YOU."
"And be champion of the ring, too," he suggested.
"No; I didn"t think about that at all. Dad had always told me I was going to be, and I took it for granted. You see, he was very wise. He was a great man."
"But he didn"t see you leaving the ring."
"I don"t know. He was so careful in hiding its crookedness from me, that I think he feared it. I"ve told you about the contract with Stubener. Dad put in that clause about crookedness. The first crooked thing my manager did was to break the contract."
"And yet you are going to fight this Tom Cannam. Is it worth while?"
He looked at her quickly.
"Don"t you want me to?"
"Dear lover, I want you to do whatever you want."
So she said, and to herself, her words still ringing in her ears, she marveled that she, not least among the stubbonly independent of the breed of Sangster, should utter them. Yet she knew they were true, and she was glad.
"It will be fun," he said.
"But I don"t understand all the gleeful details."
"I haven"t worked them out yet. You might help me. In the first place I"m going to double-cross Stubener and the betting syndicate. It will be part of the joke. I am going to put Cannam out in the first round. For the first time I shall be really angry when I fight. Poor Tom Cannam, who"s as crooked as the rest, will be the chief sacrifice. You see, I intend to make a speech in the ring. It"s unusual, but it will be a success, for I am going to tell the audience all the inside workings of the game. It"s a good game, too, but they"re running it on business principles, and that"s what spoils it. But there, I"m giving the speech to you instead of at the ring."
"I wish I could be there to hear," she said.
He looked at her and debated.
"I"d like to have you. But it"s sure to be a rough time. There is no telling what may happen when I start my program. But I"ll come straight to you as soon as it"s over. And it will be the last appearnce of Young Glendon in the ring, in any ring."
"But, dear, you"ve never made a speech in your life," she objected. "You might fail."
He shook his head positively.
"I"m Irish," he announced, "and what Irishman was there who couldn"t speak?" He paused to laugh merrily. "Stubener thinks I"m crazy. Says a man can"t train on matrimony. A lot he knows about matrimony, or me, or you, or anything except real estate and fixed fights. But I"ll show him that night, and poor Tom, too. I really feel sorry for Tom."
"My dear abysmal brute is going to behave most abysmally and brutally, I fear," she murmured.
He laughed.
"I"m going to make a n.o.ble attempt at it. Positively my last appearance, you know. And then it will be you, YOU. But if you don"t want that last appearance, say the word."
"Of course I want it, Big Man. I want my Big Man for himself, and to be himself he must be himself. If you want this, I want it for you, and for myself, too. Suppose I said I wanted to go on the stage, or to the South Seas or the North Pole?"
He answered slowly, almost solemnly.
"Then I"d say go ahead. Because you are you and must be yourself and do whatever you want. I love you because you are you."
"And we"re both a silly pair of lovers," she said, when his embrace had relaxed.
"Isn"t it great!" he cried.
He stood up, measured the sun with his eye, and extended his hand out over the big woods that covered the serried, purple ranges.
"We"ve got to sleep out there somewhere. It"s thirty miles to the nearest camp."
CHAPTER X.
Who, of all the sports present, will ever forget the memorable night at the Golden Gate Arena, when Young Glendon put Tom Cannam to sleep and an even greater one than Tom Cannam, kept the great audience on the ragged edge of riot for an hour, caused the subsequent graft investigation of the supervisors and the indictments of the contractors and the building commisioners, and pretty generally disrupted the whole fight game. It was a complete surprise. Nor even Stubener had the slightest apprehension of what was coming. It was true that his man had been insubordinate after the Nat Powers affair, and had run off and got married; but all that was over. Young Pat had done the expected, swallowed the inevitable crookedness of the ring, and come back into it again.
The Golden Gate Arena was new. This was its first fight, and it was the biggest building of the kind San Francisco had ever erected. It seated twenty-five thousand, and every seat was occupied. Sports had traveled from all the world to be present, and they had paid fifty dollars for their ring-side seats. The cheapest seat in the house had sold for five dollars.
The old familiar roar of applause went up when Billy Morgan, the veteran announcer, climbed through the ropes and bared his gray head. As he opened his mouth to speak, a heavy crash came from a near section where several tiers of low seats had collapsed. The crowd broke into loud laughter and shouted jocular regrets and advice to the victims, none of whom had been hurt. The crash of the seats and the hilarious uproar caused the captain of police in charge to look at one of his lieutenants and lift his eyebrows in token that they would have their hands full and a lively night.
One by one, welcomed by uproarious applause, seven doughty old ring heroes climbed through the ropes to be introduced. They were all ex-heavy-weight champions of the world. Billy Morgan accompanied each presentation to the audience with an appropriate phrase. One was hailed as "Honest John" and "Old Reliable," another was "the squarest two-fisted fighter the ring ever saw." And others: "the hero of a hundred battles and never threw one and never lay down"; "the gamest of the old guard"; "the only one who ever came back"; "the greatest warrior of them all"; and "the hardest nut in the ring to crack."
All this took time. A speech was insisted from each one of them, and they mumbled and muttered in reply with proud blushes and awkward shamblings. The longest speech was from "Old Reliable" and lasted nearly a minute. Then they had to be photographed. The ring filled up with celebrities, with champion wrestlers, famous conditioners, and veteran time-keepers and referees. Light-weights and middle-weights swarmed. Everybody seemed to be challenging everybody. Nat Powers was there, demanding a return match from Young Glendon, and so were all the other shining lights whom Glendon had snuffed out. Also, they all challenged Jim Hanford, who, in turn, had to make his statement, which was to the effect that he would accord the next fighter to the winner of the one that was about to take place. The audience immediately proceeded to name the winner, half of it wildly crying "Glendon," and the other half "Powers." In the midst of the pandemonium another tier of seats went down, and half a dozen rows were on between cheated ticket holders and the stewards who had been reaping a fat harvest. The captain despatched a message to headquarters for additional police details.
The crowd was feeling good. When Cannam and Glendon made their ring entrances the Arena resembled a national political convention. Each was cheered for a solid five minutes. The ring was now cleared. Glendon sat in his corner surrounded by his seconds. As usual, Stubener was at his back. Cannam was introduced first, and after he had sc.r.a.ped and ducked his head, he was compelled to respond to the cries for a speech. He stammered and halted, but managed to grind out several ideas.
"I"m proud to be here to-night," he said, and found s.p.a.ce to capture another thought while the applause was thundering. "I"ve fought square. I"ve fought square all my life. n.o.body can deny that. And I"m going to do my best tonight."
There were loud cries of: "That"s right, Tom!" "We know that!" "Good boy, Tom!" "You"re the boy to fetch the bacon home!"
Then came Glendon"s turn. From him, likewise, a speech was demanded, though for princ.i.p.als to give speeches was an unprecedented thing in the prize-ring. Billy Morgan held up his hand for silence, and in a clear, powerful voice Glendon began.
"Everybody has told you they were proud to be here to-night," he said. "I am not." The audience was startled, and he paused long enough to let it sink home. "I am not proud of my company. You wanted a speech. I"ll give you a real one. This is my last fight. After tonight I leave the ring for good. Why? I have already told you. I don"t like my company. The prize-ring is so crooked that no man engaged in it can hide behind a corkscrew. It is rotten to the core, from the little professional clubs right up to this affair tonight."
The low rumble of astonishment that had been rising at this point burst into a roar. There were loud boos and hisses, and many began crying: "Go on with the fight!" "We want the fight!" "Why don"t you fight?" Glendon, waiting, noted that the princ.i.p.al disturbers near the ring were promoters and managers and fighters. In vain did he strive to make himself heard. The audience was divided, half crying out, "Fight!" and the other half, "Speech! Speech!"
Ten minutes of hopeless madness prevailed. Stubener, the referee, the owner of the Arena, and the promoter of the fight, pleaded with Glendon to go on with the fight. When he refused, the referee declared that he would award the fight in forfeit to Cannam if Glendon did not fight.
"You can"t do it," the latter retorted. "I"ll sue you in all the courts if you try that on, and I"ll not promise you that you"ll survive this crowd if you cheat it out of the fight. Besides, I"m going to fight. But before I do I"m going to finish my speech."
"But it"s against the rules," protested the referee.
"It"s nothing of the sort. There"s not a word in the rules against ring-side speeches. Every big fighter here tonight has made a speech."
"Only a few words," shouted the promoter in Glendon"s ear. "But you"re giving a lecture."
"There"s nothing in the rules against lectures," Glendon answered. "And now you fellows get out of the ring or I"ll throw you out."
The promoter, apoplectic and struggling, was dropped over the ropes by his coat-collar. He was a large man, but so easily had Glendon done it with one hand that the audience went wild with delight. The cries for a speech increased in volume. Stubener and the owner beat a wise retreat. Glendon held up his hands to be heard, whereupon those that shouted for the fight redoubled their efforts. Two or three tiers of seats crashed down, and numbers who had thus lost their places, added to the turmoil by making a concerted rush to squeeze in on the still intact seats, while those behind, blocked from sight of the ring, yelled and raved for them to sit down.