"What's up with you, Larry?" said Mack. "Where's your science gone? Why don't you play the game as you know it?""Mack, Mack," panted Larry. "It ain't a game. I'm--I'm fighting, and, Mack, I'm not afraid of him."Mack whistled. "Who said you are afraid of him, youngster?""He did, Mack, he called me a coward--you remember, Ben, up in the cedar bush that day we played hookey--you remember, Ben?" Ben nodded. "He called me a coward and"--grinding the words between his teeth--"he called my mother a coward. But I am not afraid of him, Mack--he can't make me afraid; he can't make me run away."What with his rage and his secret fear, the boy had quite lost control of himself.
"So that's it," said Mack, reading both rage and fear in his eyes.
"Listen to me, Larry," he continued in a voice low and stern. "You quit this monkey work right now or, by the jumping Jehoshaphat, Iwill lick the tar out of you myself when this is over. You're not afraid of him; I know that--we all know that. But you don't want to kill him, eh? No. What you want is to make him look like a fool. Well, then, fight, if you want to fight, but remember your rules. Play with him, make him follow you round until you get his wind; there's your chance. Then get him hard and get away."But the boy spoke no word in reply. He was staring gloomily, desperately, before him into space.
Mack seized him, and shaking him impatiently, said, "Larry boy, listen to me. Don't you care for anybody but yourself? Don't you care for me at all?"At that Larry appeared to wake up as from a sleep.
"What did you say, Mack?" he answered. "Of course I care, you know that, Mack.""Then," said Mack, "for God's sake, get a smile on your face.
Smile, confound you, smile."
The boy passed his gloved hand over his face, looked for a moment into Mack's eyes, and the old smile came back to his lips.
"Now you're all right," cried Mack in triumph. "Remember your father's rule, 'Keep your head with your heels.'" And Larry did remember! For on the call of "Time" he slipped from Ben's knees and began to circle lightly about Mop, smiling upon him and waiting his chance. His chance soon came, for Mop, thinking that his enemy had had about enough and was ready to quit, adopted aggressive tactics, and, feinting with his right, swung heavily with his left at the smiling face. But the face proved elusive, and upon Mop's undefended head a series of blows dealt with savage fury took all the heart out of him. So he cried to the referee as he ducked into his corner:
"He's fightin'. He's fightin'. I'm not fightin'.""You'd better get busy then," called Ben derisively from his corner. "Now, Larry, sail into him," and Larry sailed in with such vehemence that Mop fairly turned tail and ran around the ring, Larry pursuing him amid the delighted shouts of the spectators.
This ended the contest, the judges giving the decision to Mop, who, though obviously beaten at the finish, had showed a distinct superiority on points. As for Larry, the decision grieved him not at all. He carried home a face slightly disfigured but triumphant, his sole comment to his mother upon the contest being, "I was not afraid of him anyway, mother; he could not make me run.""I am not so sure of this boxing, Lawrence," she said, but the boy caught the glint in her eyes and was well enough content.
In the late evening Ben, with Larry and Joe following him, took occasion to look in upon Mop at the butcher shop.
"Say, Mop," said Ben pleasantly, "what do you think of Larry now?
Would you say he was a coward?"
"What do you mean?" asked Mop, suspecting trouble.
"Just what I say," said Ben, while Larry moved up within range, his face white, his eyes gleaming.
"I ain't saying nothing about nobody," replied Mop sullenly, with the tail of his eye upon Larry's white face and gleaming eyes.
"You say him one tam--in de cedar swamp," said Joe.
"Would you say Larry was a coward?" repeated Ben.
"No, I wouldn't say nothing of the sort," replied Mop promptly.
"Do you think he is a coward?" persisted Ben.
"No," said Mop, "I know he ain't no coward. He don't fight like no coward."This appeared to satisfy Ben, but Larry, moving slightly nearer, took up the word for himself.
"And would you say my mother was a coward?" he asked in a tense voice, his body gathered as if for a spring.
"Larry, I wouldn't say nothing about your mother," replied Mop earnestly. "I think your mother's a bully good woman. She was awfully good to my mother last winter, I know."The spring went out of Larry's body. He backed away from Mop and the boys.
"Who said your mother was a coward?" inquired Mop indignantly. "If anybody says so, you bring him to me, and I'll punch his head good, I will."Larry looked foolishly at Ben, who looked foolishly back at him.
"Say, Mop," said Larry, a smile like a warm light passing over his face, "come on up and see my new rabbits."
