Part 51 (1/2)

I looked at Jasper, Jr. He was staring at me in utter bewilderment.

”Good Lord! You--you've knocked him down!”

”I didn't think I could do it,” said I hazily.

He sprang to his brother's side, and a.s.sisted him to a sitting posture.

”Right to the jaw,” shouted Jasper, with a strange enthusiasm.

”Left,” I corrected him.

Colingraft gazed about him in a stupid, vacant fas.h.i.+on for a moment, and then allowed his glazed eyes to rest upon me. He sat rather limply, I thought.

”Are you hurt, Colly?” cried Jasper, Jr.

A sickly grin, more of surprise than shame, stole over Colingraft's face. He put his hand to his jaw; then to the back of his head.

”By Jove!” he murmured. ”I--I didn't think he had it in him. Let me get up!”

Jasper, Jr. was discreet. ”Better let well enough alone, old--”

”I intend to,” said Colingraft, as he struggled to his feet.

For a moment he faced me, uncertainly.

”I'm sorry, Mr. t.i.tus,” said I calmly.

”You--you are a wonder!” fell from his lips. ”I'm not a coward, Mr.

Smart. I've boxed a good deal in my time, but--by Jove, I never had a jolt like that.”

He turned abruptly and left us. We followed him slowly toward the steps. At the bottom he stopped and faced me again.

”You're a better man than I thought,” he said. ”If you'll bury the hatchet, so will I. I take back what I said to you, not because I'm afraid of you, but because I respect you. What say? Will you shake hands?”

[Ill.u.s.tration: Up to that moment I had wondered whether I could do it with my left hand.]

The surly, arrogant expression was gone from his face. In its place was a puzzled, somewhat inquiring look.

”No hard feeling on my part,” I cried gladly. We shook hands. Jasper, Jr. slapped me on the back. ”It's a most distressing, atavistic habit I'm getting into, knocking people down without rhyme or reason.”

”I daresay you had reason,” muttered Colingraft. ”I got what was coming to me.” An eager light crept into his handsome eyes. ”By Jove, we can get in some corking work with the gloves while I'm here. I box quite a bit at home, and I miss it travelling about like this. What say to a half-hour or so every day? I have the gloves in one of my trunks.

I'm getting horribly seedy. I need stirring up.”

”Charmed, I'm sure,” I said, a.s.suming an enthusiasm I did not feel.

Put on the gloves with this strapping, skillful boxer? Not I! I was firmly resolved to stop while my record was good. In a scientific clash with the gloves he would soon find out what a miserable duffer I was.

”And j.a.ppy, here, is no slouch. He's as s.h.i.+fty as the d.i.c.kens.”

”The s.h.i.+ftier the better,” said I, with great aplomb. Jasper, Jr., stuck out his chest modestly, and said: ”Oh, piffle, Colly.” But just the same I hadn't the least doubt in my mind that Jasper could ”put it all over me.” It was a rather sickening admission, though strictly private.

We made our way to my study, where I mildly suggested that we refrain from mentioning our little encounter to Mrs. t.i.tus or the Countess.