to himself, 'I believe the way I'm feeling, I could just go and eat up
that gink right away.' And the more he thought of it, the better it
looked to him, so all of a sudden he grabs his hat and beats it like a
streak down to the saloon on the corner, where he knew the feller would
be at that time, and he goes straight up to him and hands him one.
'Back comes the guy at him, he was a great big son of a gun, weighing
thirty pounds more than dad, and him and dad mixes it right there in
the saloon till the barkeep and about fifty other fellers throws them
out, and they goes off to a vacant lot to finish the thing. And dad's
so worked up that he gives the other guy his till he hollers that
that's all he'll want. And then dad goes home and waits quite quiet and
happy and peaceful till they tell him I'm there.'
Steve paused.
'Kirk,' he said then, 'how would you like a round or two with the small
gloves, just to get things off your mind for a spell and pass the time?
My dad said he found it eased him mighty good.'
Kirk stared at him.
'Just a couple of rounds,' urged Steve. 'And you can go all out at
that. I shan't mind. Just try to think I'm some guy that's been picking
on you and let me have it. See what I mean?'
For the first time that day the faint ghost of a grin appeared on
Kirk's face.
'I wonder if you're right, Steve?'
'I know I'm right. And, say, don't think I don't need it, too. I ain't
known Miss Ruth all this time for nothing. You'll be doing me a
kindness if you knock my face in.'
The small gloves occupied a place of honour to themselves in a lower
drawer. It was not often that Kirk used them in his friendly bouts with
Steve. For ordinary occasions the larger and more padded species met
with his approval. Steve, during these daily sparring encounters, was
amiability itself; but he could not be counted upon not to forget
himself for an occasional moment in the heat of the fray; and though
Kirk was courageous enough, he preferred to preserve the regularity of
his features at the expense of a little extra excitement.
Once, after a brisk rally, he had gone about the world looking as if he
was suffering from mumps, owing to a right hook which no one regretted
more than Steve himself.
But to-day was different; and Kirk felt that even a repetition of that
lethal punch would be welcome.
Steve, when the contest opened, was disposed to be consolatory in word
as well as deed. He kept up a desultory conversation as he circled and
feinted.
'You gotta look at it this way,' he began, side-stepping a left, 'it
ain't often you hear of anything going wrong at times like this. You
gotta remember', he hooked Kirk neatly on the jaw, 'that' he concluded.
Kirk came back with a swing at the body which made his adversary grunt.
'That's true,' he said.
'Sure,' rejoined Steve a little breathlessly, falling into a clinch.
They moved warily round each other.
'So,' said Steve, blocking a left, 'that ought to comfort you some.'
