“It’s packed solid in there,” Brant said. “Not a seat to be had.”
We climbed a flight of concrete steps, meeting people as they moved to their seats. Some of
the guys recognized me and slapped me on the back, wishing me luck. At a gangway I paused
to look into the arena. One of the preliminary fights was on. The ring, under the dazzling
white lights, looked a mile away, and the roar of the crowd seemed to shake the whole
building.
“Some house,” Brant said. “Better get changed, Farrar.”
There was the usual mob of pressmen and hangers-on waiting outside my dressing-room,
but Brant wouldn’t let them in. He got the door shut with difficulty, leaving Pepi outside to
talk to them.
28
Waller was waiting to take charge of me.
“Don’t wait,” I said to Brant. “Henry can do it all.”
“Now, look …” Brant began, but I cut him short.
“I don’t want you around, and I don’t want you in my corner. Henry can do all that’s
necessary.”
Brant shrugged his fat shoulders. His face turned crimson.
“Well, okay, if that’s the way you feel. But there’s no need to get sore at me. I can’t help
it.”
“Maybe you can’t, but you got me into this, and I don’t want you in my comer.”
As he turned to the door, he said, “Don’t pull anything smart, Farrar. You’re in this now up
to your ears, and there’s no out for you.”
“Dust!”
When he had gone I began to strip off. Waller stood around, a worried expression on his
ebony face.
“You relax, Mr. Farrar,” he said. “This ain’t no way to go into the ring.”
“Okay, okay, don’t bother me, Henry,” I said, and stretched out on the rubbing-table. “Lock
the door. I don’t want anyone in here.”
He locked the door, then came over and began to work on me.
“Are you going to win this fight?” he asked presently.
“How do I know? Your guess is as good as mine.”
“I don’t think so.” He went on kneading my muscles for a while, then he said, “Mr.
Petelli’s been around too long. I reckon he’s done a lot of harm to the game in this town. Is
this another fixed fight?”
“You know it is. I should have thought the whole damned town knows it by now. What else
can you expect when Petelli lays ten grand on the Kid? I’ve been told to go in the third.”
Waller grunted. We didn’t look at each other.
29
“You shouldn’t get sore with Mr. Brant,” he said. “He’s a good guy. What can he do
against Mr. Petelli? If Mr. Petelli says for you to dive in the third, what can Mr. Brant say? If
he says no, those two gunmen will fix him. Mr. Brant’s got a wife and kids to think of.”
“Lay off, Henry. Maybe Brant can’t help it, but I’d just as soon not have him around. You
can take care of me, can’t you?”
“If you’re going in the third, you don’t need taking care of,” Waller said sadly.
There was some truth in that.
“Suppose I don’t take a dive?” I said. “Suppose I fight the Kid and lick him? What chance
have I got of getting out of here alive?”
Waller looked uneasily around the room as if he feared someone might be listening.
“That’s crazy talk,” he said, his eyes rolling. “Get that idea, out of your head.”
