took in the softness of her cheek, the lights in her dark brown hair. "Come and see it. Would you?"
"I'm going to be there. I'll be sure to be there early to see your fight."
He looked at her suddenly. "Where are you going now? Let's take a walk."
Dorinda hesitated only an instant. "All right." They walked along, neither of them saying much, until they stopped at a rail and looked down the sloping streets to the confusion of canneries and lumber wharves along the riverfront. Off to the northwest the sun slanted through the clouds and threw a silver light on the river, silhouetting a steam schooner inbound from the rough water out where the Columbia met the Pacific. "You worked here long?" he asked suddenly. "No, only about two months. I was headed to Portland but I couldn't find a job. I came from Arizona. My father has a ranch out there, but I thought I'd like to try singing. So I was going to go to school at night, and study voice in my spare time."
"That's funny, you being from Arizona," he said. "I just came from there!"
"You did?" She laughed. "One place is all sun, the other all rain."
"Well, I grew up here. In St. John's, over near Portland.
My dad worked at a box-shuck factory there. You know, fruit boxes, plywood an' all."
"Is he still there" she looked into his eyes "in Portland?"
"No." Tandy had to look away. "Not anymore." Dorinda suddenly glanced at her watch and gave a startled cry.
"Oh, we've got to go! I'm supposed to be back at work!" They made their way along the street and down the hill.
He left her at the door of the restaurant.
"I probably won't get a chance to see you after the fight," she said. "I've been invited to a party at the hotel." Quick jealousy touched him. "Who's giving?" he demanded.
"The fellow who is taking me, Stan Reiser." He stared at her, shocked and still. "Oh..." He blinked, then turned swiftly and walked away, trembling inside. Everywhere he turned it was Stan Reiser. He heard her call after him, heard her take a few running steps toward him, but he did not stop or turn his head.
He was burning with that old deep fury in the ring that night. Gus looked at him curiously as he stood in the corner rubbing his feet in the resin. In a ringside seat were Dorinda and Reiser, but Gus had not seen them yet. Briggs had. Briggs never missed anything.
"All right, kid," Gus said quietly, "you know more this time, and this guy ain't smart. But he can punch, so don't take any you can miss."
The bell sounded and Tandy Moore whirled like a cat. Benny Baker was fifteen pounds heavier and a blocky man, noted as a slugger. Tandy walked out fast and Benny sprang at him, throwing both hands.
Almost of its own volition, Tandy's left sprang from his shoulder. It was a jab, and a short one, but it smashed Benny Baker on the nose and stopped him in his tracks. Tandy jabbed again, then feinted, and when Baker lunged he drilled a short right to the slugger's chin.
Benny Baker hit the canvas on the seat of his pants, his eyes dazed. He floundered around and got up at six, turning to meet Tandy. Baker looked white around the mouth, and he tried to clinch, but Tandy stepped back and whipped up a powerful right uppercut and then swung a looping left to the jaw.
Baker hit the canvas on his shoulder blades. At the count of ten, he had not even wiggled a toe.
Tandy Moore turned then and avoiding Dorinda's eyes looked squarely at Reiser. It was only a look that held an instant, but Stan's face went dark and he started half to his feet, then slumped down.
"Go back to Albina Street, you weasel," Tandy said. "I'll be coming for you!" Then he slipped through the ropes and walked away.
Gus Coe watched the interchange. The big ex-fighter took his cigar from his mouth and looked at Stan thoughtfully. There was something between those two. But what?
With their winnings as a stake they took to the road. The following week, at the armory in Klamath Falls, Tandy Moore stopped Joe Burns in one round, and
"I'm going to be there. I'll be sure to be there early to see your fight."
He looked at her suddenly. "Where are you going now? Let's take a walk."
Dorinda hesitated only an instant. "All right." They walked along, neither of them saying much, until they stopped at a rail and looked down the sloping streets to the confusion of canneries and lumber wharves along the riverfront. Off to the northwest the sun slanted through the clouds and threw a silver light on the river, silhouetting a steam schooner inbound from the rough water out where the Columbia met the Pacific. "You worked here long?" he asked suddenly. "No, only about two months. I was headed to Portland but I couldn't find a job. I came from Arizona. My father has a ranch out there, but I thought I'd like to try singing. So I was going to go to school at night, and study voice in my spare time."
"That's funny, you being from Arizona," he said. "I just came from there!"
"You did?" She laughed. "One place is all sun, the other all rain."
"Well, I grew up here. In St. John's, over near Portland.
My dad worked at a box-shuck factory there. You know, fruit boxes, plywood an' all."
"Is he still there" she looked into his eyes "in Portland?"
"No." Tandy had to look away. "Not anymore." Dorinda suddenly glanced at her watch and gave a startled cry.
"Oh, we've got to go! I'm supposed to be back at work!" They made their way along the street and down the hill.
He left her at the door of the restaurant.
"I probably won't get a chance to see you after the fight," she said. "I've been invited to a party at the hotel." Quick jealousy touched him. "Who's giving?" he demanded.
"The fellow who is taking me, Stan Reiser." He stared at her, shocked and still. "Oh..." He blinked, then turned swiftly and walked away, trembling inside. Everywhere he turned it was Stan Reiser. He heard her call after him, heard her take a few running steps toward him, but he did not stop or turn his head.
He was burning with that old deep fury in the ring that night. Gus looked at him curiously as he stood in the corner rubbing his feet in the resin. In a ringside seat were Dorinda and Reiser, but Gus had not seen them yet. Briggs had. Briggs never missed anything.
"All right, kid," Gus said quietly, "you know more this time, and this guy ain't smart. But he can punch, so don't take any you can miss."
The bell sounded and Tandy Moore whirled like a cat. Benny Baker was fifteen pounds heavier and a blocky man, noted as a slugger. Tandy walked out fast and Benny sprang at him, throwing both hands.
Almost of its own volition, Tandy's left sprang from his shoulder. It was a jab, and a short one, but it smashed Benny Baker on the nose and stopped him in his tracks. Tandy jabbed again, then feinted, and when Baker lunged he drilled a short right to the slugger's chin.
Benny Baker hit the canvas on the seat of his pants, his eyes dazed. He floundered around and got up at six, turning to meet Tandy. Baker looked white around the mouth, and he tried to clinch, but Tandy stepped back and whipped up a powerful right uppercut and then swung a looping left to the jaw.
Baker hit the canvas on his shoulder blades. At the count of ten, he had not even wiggled a toe.
Tandy Moore turned then and avoiding Dorinda's eyes looked squarely at Reiser. It was only a look that held an instant, but Stan's face went dark and he started half to his feet, then slumped down.
"Go back to Albina Street, you weasel," Tandy said. "I'll be coming for you!" Then he slipped through the ropes and walked away.
Gus Coe watched the interchange. The big ex-fighter took his cigar from his mouth and looked at Stan thoughtfully. There was something between those two. But what?
With their winnings as a stake they took to the road. The following week, at the armory in Klamath Falls, Tandy Moore stopped Joe Burns in one round, and
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