Stating it broadly, fighters may be said to be divided into twoclasses--those who are content to take two blows if they can givethree in return, and those who prefer to receive as little punishmentas possible, even at the expense of scoring fewer points themselves.
Kennedy's position, when Jimmy Silver called time, was peculiar. Onall the other occasions on which he had fought--with the gloves on inthe annual competition, and at the assault-at-arms--he had gone in forthe policy of taking all that the other man liked to give him, andgiving rather more in exchange. Now, however, he was obliged to alterhis whole style. For a variety of reasons it was necessary that heshould come out of this fight with as few marks as possible. To beginwith, he represented, in a sense, the Majesty of the Law. He wastackling Walton more by way of an object-lesson to the Kayitemutineers than for his own personal satisfaction. The object-lessonwould lose in impressiveness if he were compelled to go about for aweek or so with a pair of black eyes, or other adornments of a similarkind. Again--and this was even more important--if he was badly markedthe affair must come to the knowledge of the headmaster. Being aprefect, and in the sixth form, he came into contact with the Headevery day, and the disclosure of the fact that he had been engaged ina pitched battle with a member of his house, who was, in addition toother disadvantages, very low down in the school, would be likely tolead to unpleasantness. A school prefect of Eckleton was supposed tobe hedged about with so much dignity that he could quell turbulentinferiors with a glance. The idea of one of the august body loweringhimself to the extent of emphasising his authority with the bareknuckle would scandalise the powers.
So Kennedy, rising at the call of time from the bed on which he sat,came up to the scratch warily.
Walton, on the other hand, having everything to gain and nothing tolose, and happy in the knowledge that no amount of bruises could dohim any harm, except physically, came on with the evident intention ofmaking a hurricane fight of it. He had very little science as a boxer.
Heavy two-handed slogging was his forte, and, as the majority of hisopponents up to the present had not had sufficient skill to discounthis strength, he had found this a very successful line of action.
Kennedy and he had never had the gloves on together. In thecompetition of the previous year both had entered in their respectiveclasses, Kennedy as a lightweight, Walton in the middles, and both,after reaching the semi-final, had been defeated by the narrowest ofmargins by men who had since left the school. That had been in theprevious Easter term, and, while Walton had remained much the same asregards weight and strength, Kennedy, owing to a term of hard bowlingand a summer holiday spent in the open, had filled out. They were nowpractically on an equality, as far as weight was concerned. As forcondition, that was all in favour of Kennedy. He played football inhis spare time. Walton, on the days when football was not compulsory,smoked cigarettes.
Neither of the pair showed any desire to open the fight by shakinghands. This was not a friendly spar. It was business. The first movewas made by Walton, who feinted with his right and dashed in to fightat close quarters. It was not a convincing feint. At any rate, it didnot deceive Kennedy. He countered with his left, and swung his rightat the body with all the force he could put into the hit. Walton wentback a pace, sparred for a moment, then came in again, hittingheavily. Kennedy's counter missed its mark this time. He just stoppeda round sweep of Walton's right, ducked to avoid a similar effort ofhis left, and they came together in a clinch.
In a properly regulated glove-fight, the referee, on observing theprincipals clinch, says, "Break away there, break away," in a sad,reproachful voice, and the fighters separate without demur, being verymuch alive to the fact that, as far as that contest is concerned,their destinies are in his hands, and that any bad behaviour in thering will lose them the victory. But in an impromptu turn-up like thisone, the combatants show a tendency to ignore the rules so carefullymapped out by the present Marquess of Queensberry's grandfather, andrevert to the conditions of warfare under which Cribb and Spring wontheir battles. Kennedy and Walton, having clinched, proceeded towrestle up and down the room, while Jimmy Silver looked on from hiseminence in pained surprise at the sight of two men, who knew therules of the ring, so far forgetting themselves.
To do Kennedy justice, it was not his fault. He was only acting inself-defence. Walton had started the hugging. Also, he had got theunder-grip, which, when neither man knows a great deal of the scienceof wrestling, generally means victory. Kennedy was quite sure that hecould not throw his antagonist, but he hung on in the knowledge thatthe round must be over shortly, when Walton would have to loose him.
"Time," said Jimmy Silver.
Kennedy instantly relaxed his grip, and in that instant Walton swunghim off his feet, and they came down together with a crash that shookthe room. Kennedy was underneath, and, as he fell, his head came intoviolent contact with the iron support of a bed.
Jimmy Silver sprang down from his seat.
"What are you playing at, Walton? Didn't you hear me call time? It wasa beastly foul--the worst I ever saw. You ought to be sacked for athing like that. Look here, Kennedy, you needn't go on. I disqualifyWalton for fouling."The usually genial James stammered with righteous indignation.
Kennedy sat down on a bed, dizzily.
"No," he said; "I'm going on.""But he fouled you.""I don't care. I'll look after myself. Is it time yet?""Ten seconds more, if you really are going on."He climbed back on to the chest of drawers.
"Time."Kennedy came up feeling weak and sick. The force with which he had hithis head on the iron had left him dazed.
Walton rushed in as before. He had no chivalrous desire to spare hisman by way of compensation for fouling him. What monopolised hisattention was the evident fact that Kennedy was in a bad way, and thata little strenuous infighting might end the affair in the desiredmanner.
It was at this point that Kennedy had reason to congratulate himselfon donning gymnasium shoes. They gave him that extra touch oflightness which enabled him to dodge blows which he was too weak toparry. Everything was vague and unreal to him. He seemed to be lookingon at a fight between Walton and some stranger.
Then the effect of his fall began to wear off. He could feel himselfgrowing stronger. Little by little his head cleared, and he began oncemore to take a personal interest in the battle. It is astonishing whata power a boxer, who has learnt the art carefully, has of automaticfighting. The expert gentleman who fights under the pseudonym of "KidM'Coy" once informed the present writer that in one of his fights hewas knocked down by such a severe hit that he remembered nothingfurther, and it was only on reading the paper next morning that hefound, to his surprise, that he had fought four more rounds after theblow, and won the battle handsomely on points. Much the same thinghappened to Kennedy. For the greater part of the second round hefought without knowing it. When Jimmy Silver called time he was in asgood case as ever, and the only effects of the blow on his head were avast lump underneath the hair, and a settled determination to win orperish. In a few minutes the bell would ring for tea, and all hisefforts would end in nothing. It was no good fighting a draw withWalton if he meant to impress the house. He knew exactly what Rumour,assisted by Walton, would make of the affair in that case. "Have youheard the latest?" A would ask of B. "Why, Kennedy tried to touchWalton up for not playing footer, and Walton went for him and wouldhave given him frightful beans, only they had to go down to tea."There must be none of that sort of thing.
"Time," said Jimmy Silver, breaking in on his meditations.
It was probably the suddenness and unexpectedness of it that tookWalton aback. Up till now his antagonist had been fighting strictly onthe defensive, and was obviously desirous of escaping punishment asfar as might be possible. And then the fall at the end of round onehad shaken him up, so that he could hardly fight at all at theirsecond meeting. Walton naturally expected that it would be left to himto do the leading in round three. Instead of this, however, Kennedyopened the round with such a lightning attack that Walton was allabroad in a moment. In his most scientific mood he had never had theremotest notion of how to guard. He was aggressive and nothing else.
Attacked by a quick hitter, he was useless. Three times Kennedy gotthrough his guard with his left. The third hit staggered him. Beforehe could recover, Kennedy had got his right in, and down went Waltonin a heap.
He was up again as soon as he touched the boards, and down againalmost as soon as he was up. Kennedy was always a straight hitter, andnow a combination of good cause and bad temper--for the thought of thefoul in the first round had stirred what was normally a more or lessplacid nature into extreme viciousness--lent a vigour to his left armto which he had hitherto been a stranger. He did not use his rightagain. It was not needed.
Twice more Walton went down. He was still down when Jimmy Silvercalled time. When the half-minute interval between the rounds wasover, he stated that he was not going on.
Kennedy looked across at him as he sat on a bed dabbing tenderly athis face with a handkerchief, and was satisfied with the success ofhis object-lesson. From his own face the most observant of headmasterscould have detected no evidence that he had been engaged in a vulgarfight. Walton, on the other hand, looked as if he had been engaged inseveral--all violent. Kennedy went off to his study to change, feelingthat he had advanced a long step on the thorny path that led to thePerfect House.
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