Part 11 (1/2)

”'Is it a go?' inquires Strokher.

”'You bet your great-gran'mammy's tortis-sh.e.l.l chessy cat it's a go,'

says Hardenberg, prompt as a hop-frog catching flies.

”We don't lose no time trying to reason with 'em, for they is sure keen on havin' the go. So we lays out a ring by the rear end o' the deck, an'

runs the schooner in till we're in the lee o' the land, an' she ridin'

steady on her pins.

”Then along o' about four o'clock on a fine still day we lays the boat to, as they say, an' folds up the sail, an' havin' scattered resin in the ring (which it ain't no ring, but a square o' ropes on posts), we says all is ready.

”Ally Bazan, he's referee, an' me, I'm the time-keeper which I has to ring the s.h.i.+p's bell every three minutes to let 'em know to quit an'

that the round is over.

”We gets 'em into the ring, each in his own corner, squattin' on a bucket, the time-keeper bein' second to Hardenberg an' the referee being second to Strokher. An' then, after they has shuk hands, I climbs up on'

the chicken-coop an' hollers 'Time' an' they begins.

”Mister Man, I've saw Tim Henan at his best, an' I've saw Sayres when he was a top-notcher, an' likewise several other irregler boxin' sharps that were sure tough tarriers. Also I've saw two short-horn bulls arguin' about a question o' leaders.h.i.+p, but so help me Bob--the fight I saw that day made the others look like a young ladies' quadrille. Oh, I ain't goin' to tell o' that mill in detail, nor by rounds. Rounds! After the first five minutes they _wa'n't_ no rounds. I rung the blame bell till I rung her loose an' Ally Bazan yells 'break-away' an' 'time's up'

till he's black in the face, but you could no more separate them two than you could put the brakes on a blame earthquake.

”At about suppertime we pulled 'em apart. We could do it by then, they was both so gone; an' jammed each one o' 'em down in their corners. I rings my bell good an' plenty, an' Ally Bazan stands up on a bucket in the middle o' the ring an' says:

”'I declare this 'ere glove contest a draw.'

”An' draw it sure was. They fit for two hours stiddy an' never a one got no better o' the other. They give each other lick for lick as fast an'

as steady as they could stand to it. 'Rastlin', borin' in, boxin'--all was alike. The one was just as good as t'other. An' both willin' to the very last.

”When Ally Bazan calls it a draw, they gits up and wobbles toward each other an' shakes hands, and Hardenberg he says:

”'Stroke, I thanks you a whole lot for as neat a go as ever I mixed in.'

”An' Strokher answers up:

”'Hardie, I loves you better'n ever. You'se the first man I've met up with which I couldn't do for--an' I've met up with some scraggy propositions in my time, too.'

”Well, they two is a sorry-lookin' pair o' birds by the time we runs into San Diego harbour next night. They was fine lookin' objects for fair, all bruises and b.u.mps. You remember now we was to take on a party at San Diego who was to show t'other half o' Esperanza's card, an'

thereafterward to boss the job.

”Well, we waits till nightfall an' then slides in an' lays to off a certain pile o' stone, an' shows two green lights and one white every three and a half minutes for half a hour--this being a signal.

”They is a moon, an' we kin see pretty well. After we'd signaled about a hour, mebbee, we gits the answer--a one-minute green flare, and thereafterward we makes out a rowboat putting out and comin' towards us.

They is two people in the boat. One is the gesabe at the oars an' the other a party sitting in the hinder end.

”Ally Bazan an' me, an' Strokher an' Hardenberg, we's all leanin' over the fence a-watchin'; when all to once I ups an' groans some sad. The party in the hinder end o' the boat bein' feemale.

”'Ain't we never goin' to git shut of 'em?' says I; but the words ain't no more'n off my teeth when Strokher pipes up: