The Tick of Death

perspective. ‘It’s a long one,’ said the second official superfluously. ‘There won’t be much in it between the two of them. Did he put his foot out of the circle, do you suppose?’

The arrival of the first official from the opposite end led Cribb to wonder momentarily if such a calamity had taken place. Fortunately, it was not so. ‘Mr Malone has elected not to take his last throw,’ came the explanation, ‘so we may now commence the measuring of the best effort of each competitor.’ The second official took the end of the measuring-tape from his colleague with the familiarity of a well-established ritual and walked to the circle, pulling for more tape as he required it. Soon a quivering line was established between the front of the circle and Devlin’s mark. ‘One hundred and eight feet precisely,’ announced the second official.

‘Holy Mother of God!’ exclaimed Devlin. ‘I’ve never thrown anything so far in all my life. That’s the sweetest little hammer I’ve ever held in my two hands.’

‘Malacca,’ Cribb reminded him, in an aside.

‘Ah! Malacca.’ Devlin winked.

The measuring-party moved tensely across to the Englishman’s pennant at the extreme edge of the sector. At the front edge of the circle, the first official held his end of the tape rigidly in place. The second official was on his knees by the pin with everyone else clustered around him. The Englishman was the first to leap up in excitement. ‘One hundred and eight feet one, by Heaven! I’ve done it by an inch.’ He snatched Devlin’s hand and shook it vigorously. ‘Splendid competition, old man. You certainly brought out the best in me. You too.’ He nodded in Malone’s direction, but did not go so far as to shake his hand.

‘That’s it, then. Congratulations,’ said Devlin.

‘Just a moment.’ The voice was Cribb’s. He was standing at the circle, beside the first official. ‘I should like the throw to be measured again according to the rules,’ he called. ‘I think we may find a discrepancy.’

The Englishman strode the thirty-five yards to where Cribb was standing. ‘Just what do you intend by that remark, sir?’

‘That we are subject to the regulations of the Amateur Athletic Association,’ said Cribb mildly. ‘If I may quote- and I think I can-“All distances shall be measured from the circumference of the circle to the first pitch of the hammer, along a line drawn from that pitch to the centre of the circle.” The latter was not observed in this case, gentlemen. The measuring of both throws was taken from the same spot at the front of the circle. It would not, of course, affect the measuring of Mr Devlin’s throw, which happened to be in line with the front, but I suggest that we re-measure the other.’

‘I believe he’s right,’ conceded the first official. ‘The bloody laws are always being changed.’

‘Not this one,’ said Cribb. ‘It has been in force for several years.’

The tape was extended again, this time between the Englishman’s mark and the point of the circle nearest to it.

‘One hundred and seven feet, eleven and a half inches,’ said the second official. ‘Mr Devlin wins.’

‘You’re a son of Erin, by Jesus!’ said a voice in Cribb’s ear.

CHAPTER 5

‘This is most civil of you,’ said Cribb, indicating the pint of ale in front of him.

‘Not at all,’ said Devlin. ‘It’s a poor sort of man that doesn’t repay a kindness. I don’t let opportunities like this slip by.’

Nor I, thought Cribb. He had not gone to so much trouble merely for a glass of beer. ‘I was doing my job, no more. It was simply a matter of exercising the rules.’

‘That may be so,’ said Devlin, ‘but ’twould have been easier to have held your tongue. The sport could do with more of your kind, mister-men of principle, that take their duties seriously. Incidentally, you’re not wanted for the high jump, or anything, are you?’

‘Lord, no.’ Cribb shook his head decisively and transferred the official rosette slickly into his pocket. ‘We tend to specialise in one event, you know.’ He smiled. ‘The rules get more complicated all the time.’

‘Sure, and don’t you think I know that? It’s taken me a year and more to master the art of turning in a pesky little seven-foot circle.’

What an opening! Cribb took a sip of beer and casually said, ‘It’s an art your friend Mr Malone doesn’t appear to have mastered yet.’

Devlin returned a sharp look. ‘Malone? Malone’s no friend of mine.’

‘Indeed?’ said Cribb. ‘I apologise for the error.’ As Devlin showed no sign of wanting to enlarge on his statement, the sergeant went on. ‘I had assumed you were constantly competing together. In England, the principal hammer-throwers comprise a very-if you’ll pardon the expression- small circle.’

The reference made no impression on Devlin. He stared absently into his beer.

‘And then again,’ said Cribb, determined not to drop the subject, ‘I should have thought you would have got to know each other tolerably well on the voyage from America. I presume you were all on the same Cunarder.’

‘Sure,’ said Devlin, ‘but Malone was travelling on his own ticket like a gentleman. The rest of us were steerage. The first time I spoke to him was after we had docked at Southampton.’ He emphasised his words in a way clearly intended to remove any question of his involvement with Malone.

But if that line of inquiry was closed, another was now open. ‘He is somewhat detached from the other members of the team, then?’ said Cribb.

‘That’s about it,’ said Devlin, relieved that the point was taken at last.

‘He isn’t quartered with the rest of you, I dare say?’

Devlin shook his head. ‘He’s taken a suite in some flash hotel in Piccadilly-the Alcazar. The rest of us are dos-sing down in something not much better than a common lodging-house here in West Brompton. It’s convenient for Lillie Bridge, but there the convenience ends.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Cribb.

‘Ah, we wouldn’t really want to be in a hotel. We’re not accustomed to it. Shanahan and I are at college, you see, and Creed works in a druggist’s store. We’re all dependent on the club for our upkeep here.’

‘Not so Malone?’ said Cribb.

‘Not so Malone.’

‘He is a man of private means, then?’

‘I think you could say that.’

‘I follow you now,’ said Cribb, as if Devlin had been struggling all afternoon to make himself clear. ‘If a man is a passable athlete and can pay his way, the club will allow him to wear its colours. Ah well, it may seem unjust that a man can buy himself a place on an international team, but after all, the same thing happens in every other sphere of human activity, Mr Devlin, and I daresay there are less wholesome things to be bought with money than athletic club vests. The exercise Mr Malone is getting must be most beneficial. Perhaps he will blossom into a champion by the time you all return. He’s got the physical capacity, wouldn’t you say?’

‘He’s a big fellow, I’ll grant you,’ Devlin conceded, ‘but he’ll need to learn the rudiments of turning in the circle before anyone can call him a hammer-thrower.’

‘That was evident this afternoon,’ Cribb agreed. ‘But surely he will improve with practice? I cannot believe that a man so enthusiastic about his athletics as to cross the ocean for competition is not taking the most elementary steps to improve his style.’

‘Believe what you like,’ said Devlin. ‘You saw him this afternoon. He’s been here since February.’

‘Really? How very odd!’ said Cribb, pleased at the way the conversation flowed more freely now it was concerned with the demands of hammer-throwing. ‘If the man doesn’t practise, how on earth does he keep himself in condition? Does he have a set of bar-bells at the Alcazar Hotel, do you think?’

‘If you want to know, I reckon he’s more accustomed to lowering pints than lifting weights,’ said Devlin. ‘The only exercise he gets is in the contest when he represents the club. He gets by on sheer size and brute strength. He knows he’s less than fit, too. That’s the reason why he entered for the shot-putting as well as the hammer this afternoon-to shake some of the lead out of his limbs.’

Cribb nodded. The last assumption was probably true. If Malone’s training for athletics was restricted to Saturday afternoons, he would want to take all the opportunities of exercise that the programme of events offered.