Beadle's Dime Library No. 236 — page 27: what you’re looking at

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was roused up by Stevens, looking fondly at him, to say, with a shaking voice: “Sammy, my darlin’ boy, the ground’s in sight, and Joe’s gettin’ things ready, How do you fee]—all al Sam yawned, and stretched out his grand white arm to grasp his old friend’s hand. ‘Don’t you get off your base, Steve,” he said ood-humoredly. ‘‘I want you to keep your ead clear to watch me and tell me how things are going. If you’re scared for me, I'shall be scared for myself.” The old man suddenly stooped down and kissed the young athlete’s forehead, muttering: ‘* Forgive me, boy, I couldn’t help it. Ye lay asleep, and looked so like ye did the day I first took ye, arter poor Charley died. It’s all right. Lain’t skeered fur ye a bit. But ye’ve got to take it to-day. This ain’tno Patsy Pastor. It’s the champion. Don’t be rash. Do what Joe tells ye. He knows all the champion’s points. He’s sparred with him many a time, Be obedient.” Sam smiled in old) Steve’s face. “Dear old fellow,” he said; ‘‘more than father to me! I’ll win this battle to-day, and I romise you it shall be my last. But Dll win it Bevo, or die on the ground, Hush! Here’s oe,” Down came Joe, grinning amiably and cry- ing out briskly: ; ‘Come, my babby, come and take a little snifter to get ye in trim. Nothin’ ’eavy, but jest enough to put the ’art into ye. They’re a- choosin’ the ground, and we've got choice of corners. It'll take ’em a good hour to wrangle, and you'll ’ave time to settle your stummick, I seen the champion. ’E’s lookin’ ’arty, It'll be a noble figbt, my boy; but you’ll knock ’im into a cocked ’at, if you does what I tells ye. Let’im come fur ye, and take him in the line- fighting. That’s what shows a man, Sammy. eep yer heyes skinned and your *ead a-wag- gin’, and let "im ‘ave it, ’ot an’ Veavy. Fust round will settle the battle. If’e flinches then, you've got’im, lad, ’Ere’s your beef tea.” CHAPTER XXIII. THE CHAMPIONSHIP BATTLE. Ovt in the midst of the Fifty-Mile Everglade, the Muggahoochie river widens into a lagoon in a basin of white coral sand, bordered with mud deposited by the stream itself. fn the midst of the lagoon stands a little island, several feet higher than the stream, with overhanging banks. Many thousand years ago it was part of a sandy plain, when the Muggshoochie was a baby stream, and a hard rock at the upper end resisted the water better than the softer sand round it. So the baby Muggahoochie made a gutter round the rock, and the gutter deepened as the Muggahoochie grew up, till the island became a fixture, growing daily from accumulated drift- wood. It measured about six hundred feet square inside the undulations, had a grove of trees round the edge, and an open space of hard white gand in the middle, that looked like a very shallow saucer, with green banks round if. In this saucer was pitched the ring, and a crowd of some five or six hundred men, most of them well-dressed, was scattered round the in- closure, talking, smoking and betting. It was not a crowd of common roughs by any means, for the expedition was safe to cost eac member about a hundred dollars before he got back, and rougbs cannot afford that. There were about a dozen members of Con- gress; three judges of criminal courts; six score olitical leaders, from wards up to States; two estern senators; thirty or forty muscular lawyers and doctors; four titled gentlemen from abroad; reporters from ten great dailies; the editors of three great weeklies; three hun- dred men of all ages who Jived on the means ac- cumulated in trade by their fathers or grand- fathers, and a residuum of quiet, well-dressed persons, who looked like retired army officers, or parsons of the sporting kind, once common in Methodist circuits. These men, the quietest of all, were the prize-fighters by profession. Two tents had been set up in the shade, and the steamers lay in the lagoon, tied uv to por- iene the drift-wood dam, at one end of the and, The sun was about an hour high, a pleasant, cool breeze rustled the foliage of the trees, and the buzz of voices had subsided as the last bets were recorded, when Colonel Tom Darling got up on a camp-table and called out: “Gentlemen, if you’ll give me your attention a minute Pll read out the conditions of this match.” A silent, eager throng instantly gathered i d he read out: This battle is to be conducted on the London rules, and Mr. Shortliffe is accepted by both s ref : me Phd: eerie fights at one ninety-eight pounds; Catapult Sam, one eighty-six. “Catapult Sam chooses the southeast corner = is Seon by Steve Marshall and Bristol oe, Champion Sam, eee “The champion takes northwest corner, and is seconded by Bill Black and the Irish Ruby. ‘‘ Hither man striking below the belt, kicking, biting, gouging, striking the other when down, or falling without a blow, will lose the fight. ‘‘This is to be a fair fight, and no malice or favor shown. ‘The champion’s colors are green, and Cata- puli Sam sports the Stars and Stripes.” A great cheering went up as the colonel add- ed, good-naturedly : “‘ There’s plenty of room for all to see, and no excuse for squabbling. 1 hope every gentleman who loses money to-day will take it in good part, and that we shall redeem the manly and chivalrous art of self-defense, with the weapons of nature, from the aspersions cast upon it by hypocritical fanatics, who dare not face a man likeaman, That’s all, gentlemen. Getto your places. The men are ready.” Then every one rushed to his place round the ring, and a dozen steamboat hands did a lucra- tive business in camp-chairs at a dollar a head, till the crowd hushed into expectancy, watch- ing the tents. ver the champion’s habitation floated the green flag, dear to the members of an oppressed and generous race, Over Sam’s was the silk banner of the Union. Presently out of his tent came the champion, with his seconds carrying the sponge, bottle and towels, He was a tal], handsome young fellow, with a fresh, smiling face, stripped to the waist, in white silk drawers and low running slippers, his green silk colors at his waist. He walked to the ring, nodding and smilin to his friends, who seemed to be legion, au stepped over the /fropes to take his seat in the corner, when his seconds instantly covered bim with a big blanket, as if he had been a baby afraid of cold. Mr. Shortliffe, burly and good-natured, step- ped in a moment later, and every eye was turned toward Sam’s tent, for be had not yet come forth. They began to call out jeeringly: ** What’s the matter there?” ‘* Backing out, Joe?” ‘* Bring on your man, Bristol!” Colonel Tom rose up and said quietly: ‘‘No jeering, please, gentlemen. It’s not fair toa novice. Here he comes.” In fact at that moment the familiar fi of Bristol Joe made its appearance at the door of iets and he came out with old Steve Mar- Ssoail, Joe was resplendent in a blue flannel yacht- ing suit anda silk jersey, in which his burly figure looked gigantic, while his round face shone with good-nature, as he called out: ‘Old yer ’orses, gents. We're a-comin’ like a thousand of brick.” Old Steve carried the bottle and towels, with a huge sponge, and wore the same uniform as Joo, but ooked grave and sedate, if not a little anxious, Then came a low buzz of curiosity and en- furced admiration, as Catapult Sam stepped out, like a living statue, and walked with a springizg step toward the ring. His handsome, clean-shaven face was calm and rather severe in outline, with a firm mouth and slight curve of the lip that told of con- fidence in his own powers, while his figure was absolutely faultless from crown to toe, in its white symmetry, ‘ He wore white silk tights and white ankle boots closely laced, the only dash of color on his figure being the little Union flag in his belt. He tripped forward like a dancer, amid in- tense silence, threw his little white cap into the ring, and cleared the ropes with a flying leap; to be then greeted with a round of applause in which the champion himself joined, remarking to Bill Black: ‘Bo the powers, Bill, he’s too purty to spoil; but I’ll have to do it.” ‘ Then Sam went and sat down in his cor- ner, when both men eyed each other with great curiosity; for it was the first time they had met, Mr. Shortliffe read out the rules, and called out: ‘Step up, men, and shake hands.” Both men started up, and came to the center of the ring, where they locked hands, and looked at each other smilingly but searchingly. Each thought he had never seen a finer speci- men of humanity, and the “sports” were puz- zled to decide between them, The champion was # little the taller and heavier; but he looked a trifle too fat, and his flesh was whiter than Sam’s, now they were close enough to be compared. A delicate pink glow was plainly to be seen on the skin of the novice, and bis cheek had a fine color. ‘‘ Time,” said Mr. Shortiliife. The seconds got ready in their corners, the referee stepped out of the way, and the cham- pion and Catapult Sam skipped back into posi- tion, and. began sparring cautiously for an opening. The champion looked grave but confident. He eyed his man like a bawk, stepped gingerly round to the right, felt his way in, amid intense silence, and suddenly dashed in, delivering a ee I we se left-hander, and skipping back before the return, But the blow fell short, and Sam smiled slightly, and backed half a step, asif to lure a repetition of the attack. he champion frowned slightly and came on again. He caught sight of old Joe, with a grin on his face, and it irritated him. Suddenly he set bis teeth, and dashed in, right aud left, thinking to drive bis man round the ring by showering in blows; and Catapult Sam, after a single skip back from the first onslaught, met bim fairly with a “stopper,” and closed to the terrible half-arm “in-fighting,” as Joe had ordered him, With his head well up, and vibrating from side to side, in the opposite direction from hig hands, a fierce, eager look on his face, like that on the Apollo shooting the Python; he kept both fists battering from below, up on the chem- pion’s mouth, the other’s blows coming from above on the sides of his head, many of them glancing. Evervbody else held his breath, even to Shortliffe, and old Joe’s mouth opened in won- der, for such hot work in a first round was un- usual. Then a confusion of cries, at first low, but rising in volume, came from all round the ring. * Bravo, champion!” ‘Go it, Sam!” ** Look at that now!” ‘Heavens! what slugging!” ** Who'll stand it longest? : “The champion will,” ‘Sam will.” **He won't.” ‘“* A thousand even he does!” ‘Done! Done!” And then the cries faded again into whispers, as the two gladiators fought like tigers, all over the ring; first one pressing, then the other; both faces white and set, with glaring eyes and clinched teeth; bodies vibrating to and fro; breath getting shorter; arms twinkling like the spokes of a wheel; the sharp ‘‘crack! crack!” of the blows echoing for fifty yards away; the pat er fighting for bis life and honor, Sam for all he beld dear; til] old Joe started upin his corner and gripped Steve bard, muttering: “By gum! the boy’s gettin’ the best of the ex- changes. The champion’s a-goin’ to quit. Yah/ Gr-rroo ! look a-there !” The champion's breath was growing shorter, and he was near sn 2 away at last, fighting on the defensive, the blood flowing from mouth and nose over his broad chest, while Sam’s fore- head was marked by a big lump; but his teeth were set firmer than ever, as he kept on plying his fists, in those short, deadly stabs, following the champion close, and preventing bim from gaining a resting-spell for a single instant, Then the champion felt the ropes touch bim, and the touch gave him the power of despera- tion, as he began to deliver full-armed blows, reckless of bis own punishment, and backed Sam away again, to the middle of the ring. Finally be closed to a grapple, and the two men closed in a writhing, si'ent struggle of a full minute, at the end of which time both fell together, Catapult Sam uppermost, and lay there, panting and exbausted. Mr. Shortliffe walked to the side of the ring, watch in band, and said to the reporters, in a low tone: “First round, seven minutes, thirty-eight soonds pe Pan best of =e fall and first ood. It can’t last this way. They’re too fast.” : rab ba Old Joe and Steve came out, and carried Sam to his corner; while Bill Black and the Ruby performed a like office for the champion. ** Don’t try to git up, Sammy,” muttered Joe. * sei ot im, boy. ’H’s done all’e knows, eve, the boy’s goin’ to win in twenty mi ite eys horders.” torre: ell obey,” muttered Steve, sprinklin charge with alcohol from the bottle, and mPa ing bis flushed, bruised forehead. ‘*He’s only got one mark, by gum, but his wind’s pretty short.” , ‘The champion’s gone for good,” said Joe rimly, glancing over into the other corner. ‘That's right, Sammy, boy. Lay still and let us do the talking.” him like beavers, till Mr. They worked at Shortliffe called sharply: ® T ena mater ! 4 Second round !” am allow is Seconds to lift him up, but he walked steadily to the middle of the sing. The champion did the like, and the spectators had an opportunity of comparing them again. The champion’s lips were swollen and cut on the teeth, and one side of his jaw looked puffy ; but his eyes were still all »ight. m had a big lump on his forehead, close to the hair, and the side of his head showed the effects of the glancing blows, but otherwise he was the same as ever, Both men breathed short and rred warily for wind, but Sam looked decidedly the fresber of the two, while the champion seemed to be suffering pain, from the paleness of bis face. The twos ed for nearly a minute without a blow passing, till the flush on Sam's face an« —-> NIGDoOO (E(0) (C cS