Part 25 (1/2)

He rested there for a precious instant, swaying on one knee. But his eyes were still glazed when he rose, and again Conway, rus.h.i.+ng, beat down that guarding right, and, swinging with all his shoulder weight behind it, found that same spot and dropped him again.

Pandemonium broke loose in the upper reaches of the seats, but the silence of the body of the house was deathlike as he lay without stirring. Old Jerry gulped and waited--choked back a sobbing breath as he saw him start to lift himself once more. Upon his hands and knees first, then upon his knees alone. And then, with eyes shut, he struggled up, at the count of ten, and shaped up again.

And Conway beat him down.

Even the gallery was quiet now. The thud of that stiff-armed jolt went to every corner of that vast room. And the referee was droning out the count again.

”--Five--six--seven----”

Head sagging between his arms, eyes staring and sightless, The Pilgrim groped out and found the ropes. Once more at the end of the toll he lifted himself--lifted himself by the strength of his shoulders to his legs that tottered beneath him, and then stepped free of the ropes.

That time, before Conway could swing, the gong saved him.

Again it was Hogarty who was first through the ropes. Effortlessly he stooped and lifted that limp body and carried it across to the stool.

They tried to stretch him back against the ropes behind him, and each time his head slumped forward over his knees.

Old Jerry turned toward Morehouse and choked--licked his lips and choked again. And Morehouse nodded his head dumbly.

”He--he's gone!” he said.

Old Jerry sat and stared back at him as though he couldn't understand.

He remembered the bit of a red bow in his pocket then; he fumbled inside and found it. He remembered the eyes of the girl who had given it to him, too, that night when she had knelt at his knees. His old fingers closed, viselike, upon the fat man's arm.

”But she told me to give him this,” he mumbled dully. ”Why, she--she said for me to give him this, when he had _Won_.”

Morehouse stared at the bit of tinseled silk--stared up at Old Jerry's face and back again. And then he leaned over suddenly and picked it up. The next moment he was crowding out from behind the desk--was climbing into the ring.

Old Jerry saw him fling fiercely tense words into Hogarty's face, and Hogarty stood back. He knelt before the slack body on the stool and tried to raise the head; he held the bit of bright web before him, but there was no recognition in Denny's eyes. And the old man heard the plump reporter's words, sob-like with excitement:

”She sent it,” he hammered at those deaf ears. ”She sent it--she sent it--silk--a little bow of red silk!”

Then the whole vast house saw the change that came over that limp form. They saw the slack shoulders begin to go back; saw the dead-white face come up; they saw those sick eyes beginning to clear.

And The Pilgrim smiled a little--smiled into Morehouse's face.

”Silk,” he repeated softly. ”Silk!” and then, as if it had all come back at once: ”Silk--next to her skin!”

And they called it a miracle--that recovery. They called it a miracle of the mind over a body already beaten beyond endurance. For in the scant thirty seconds which were left, while the boy lay back with them working desperately above him, it was almost possible to see the strength ebbing back into his veins. They dashed water upon his head, inverted bottles of it into his face, and emptied it from his eyes, but during that long half minute the vague smile never left his lips--nor his eyes the face of Conway across from him.

And he went to meet The Red when the gong called to them again. He went to meet him--smiling!

The bell seemed to pick him up and drop him in the middle of the ring.

Set for the shock he stopped Conway's hurtling attack. And when The Red swung he tightened, took the blow flush on the side of the face, and only rocked a little.

Conway's chin seemed to lift to receive the blow which he started then from the waist. That right hand, flas.h.i.+ng up, found it and straightened The Red back--lifted him to his toes. And while he was still in the air The Pilgrim measured and swung. The left glove caught him flush below the ear; it picked him up and drove him cras.h.i.+ng back into the corner from which he had just come.

Old Jerry saw them bend over him--saw them pick him up at last and slip him through the ropes. Then he realized that the referee was holding Young Denny's right hand aloft; that Hogarty, with arms about him, was holding the boy erect.