with These Hands (Ss) (2002) Read Free Page A

ruefully, it would probably take him all of ten rounds to take the Soldier, anyway.
    Suddenly, he remembered . . . the Soldier had made no such promise in return.
    He turned a corner, and found himself face-to-face with Ruth Connor, walking alone.
    Her eyes widened as she saw him, and she made as if to pass, but he stopped her.
    "Hello," he said. "Weren't you going to speak?"
    "Yes," she said. "I was going to speak, but I wasn't going to stop."
    "You don't approve of fighters?" he asked, quizzically.
    "I approve of honest ones!" she said and turned as if to go by. He put his hand on her sleeve.
    "What do you mean? I'm an honest fighter, and always have been."
    She looked at him.
    "I'd like to believe that," she said sincerely, "I really would. But I've heard your fight tonight was fixed."
    "Fixed? How was it supposed to go? What was to happen?"
    "I don't know. I heard my uncle talking to some men in his office, and they were discussing this fight, and one of them said it was all framed up,"
    "You didn't hear anything else?" he asked.
    "Yes, when I come to think of it, I did! They said you were to win by a knockout in the twelfth round."
    "In the twelfth?" he asked, incredulous. "Why, that doesn't make sense."
    She glanced at her watch.
    "I must go," she said quickly. "It's very late "
    "Ruth!"
    "Yes?"
    "Will you reserve your opinion for a few hours? A little while?"
    Their eyes met, then she looked away.
    "All right. I'll wait and see." She looked back at him again, then held out her hand. "In the meantime-good luck!"
    Reilly Moran walked all the way back to the hotel and told Dan Kelly the whole story.
    Kelly was puzzled.
    "Gosh, kid! I can't figure it. The setup looks to me like a double double-cross anyway you look at it. Maybe the story about Barnaby's wife is all hokum. Maybe it ain't true. It sounds like Blackie Marollo all right. I don't know what to advise you. I'd go out and stop him quick, only we know you've got blamed small chance of that."
    "Supposing the fight went the distance ... all fifteen rounds?" Flash said thoughtfully. "Suppose I didn't stop him?"
    "Then neither way would pay off and the average bettor would come out on top. That's not a bad idea, but hard, Flash, damned hard to pull off."
    The preliminaries were over before Flash Moran walked into the coliseum. He went to his dressing room and began bandaging his hands. It was a job he always did for himself, and a job he liked doing. He could hear the dull roar of the crowd, smell the strong smell of wintergreen and the less strong, but just as prevalent, odor of sweatsoaked leather.
    Dan Kelly worked over him quietly, tying on his gloves, and Sam Goss gathered up the bucket and the bottles.
    Flash Moran never had felt like this about a fight before.
    When he climbed through the ropes, hearing the deepthroated roar of the crowd, he knew that something was wrong. It was, he was sure, stemming from his own uncertainty.
    All he'd ever had to do was to get in there and fight.
    There had been no other thought but to win. Tonight his mind was in turmoil. Was Soldier Barnaby on the level?
    Or was he double-crossing him as well as Marollo?
    What if he threw over his bargain and stopped the Soldier quick? That would hit the customers who were betting against a quick knockout hard. It would make money for Blackie Marollo. On the other hand, he would be betraying his promise to Barnaby.
    When they came together in the center of the ring, he stared at the floor. He could see Barnaby's feet, and the strong, brown muscular ankles and calves. Idly, he remembered what Dan Kelly had told him one day.
    "Remember, kid, anytime you see two fighters meet in the center of the ring, and one of them looks at the other one, or tries to look him in the eye, bet on the other guy.
    The fellow who looks at his opponent is uncertain."
    They wheeled and trotted back to their corners, and then the bell rang.
    He went out fast and led with a left. It landed, lightly, and he stepped in