Renford paused before delivering his news, to emphasise the importance of it.
“It was between O’Hara and Rand-Brown,” he said at length.
“By Jove!” said Harvey. Then a suspicion crept into his mind.
“Look here, Renford,” he said, “if you’re trying to green me—”
“I’m not, you ass,” replied Renford indignantly. “It’s perfectly true. I saw it myself.”
“By Jove, did you really? Where was it? When did it come off? Was it a good one? Who won?”
“It was the best one I’ve ever seen.”
“Did O’Hara beat him? I hope he did. O’Hara’s a jolly good sort.”
“Yes. They had six rounds. Rand-Brown got knocked out in the middle of the sixth.”
“What, do you mean really knocked out, or did he just chuck it?”
“No. He was really knocked out. He was on the floor for quite a time. By Jove, you should have seen it. O’Hara was ripping in the sixth round. He was all over him.”
“Tell us about it,” said Harvey, and Renford told.
“I’d got up early,” he said, “to feed the ferrets, and I was just cutting over to the fives-courts with their grub, when, just as I got across the senior gravel, I saw O’Hara and Moriarty standing waiting near the second court. O’Hara knows all about the ferrets, so I didn’t try and cut or anything. I went up and began talking to him. I noticed he didn’t look particularly keen on seeing me at first. I asked him if he was going to play fives. Then he said no, and told me what he’d really come for. He said he and Rand-Brown had had a row, and they’d agreed to have it out that morning in one of the fives-courts. Of course, when I heard that, I was all on to see it, so I said I’d wait, if he didn’t mind. He said he didn’t care, so long as I didn’t tell everybody, so I said I wouldn’t tell anybody except you, so he said all right, then, I could stop if I wanted to. So that was how I saw it. Well, after we’d been waiting a few minutes, Rand-Brown came in sight, with that beast Merrett in our house, who’d come to second him. It was just like one of those duels you read about, you know. Then O’Hara said that as I was the only one there with a watch—he and Rand-Brown were in footer clothes, and Merrett and Moriarty hadn’t got their tickers on them—I’d better act as timekeeper. So I said all right, I would, and we went to the second fives-court. It’s the biggest of them, you know. I stood outside on the bench, looking through the wire netting over the door, so as not to be in the way when they started scrapping. O’Hara and Rand-Brown took off their blazers and sweaters, and chucked them to Moriarty and Merrett, and then Moriarty and Merrett went and stood in two corners, and O’Hara and Rand-Brown walked into the middle and stood up to one another. Rand-Brown was miles the heaviest—by a stone, I should think—and he was taller and had a longer reach. But O’Hara looked much fitter. Rand-Brown looked rather flabby.
“I sang out ‘Time’ through the wire netting, and they started off at once. O’Hara offered to shake hands, but Rand-Brown wouldn’t. So they began without it.
“The first round was awfully fast. They kept having long rallies all over the place. O’Hara was a jolly sight quicker, and Rand-Brown didn’t seem able to guard his hits at all. But he hit frightfully hard himself, great, heavy slogs, and O’Hara kept getting them in the face. At last he got one bang in the mouth which knocked him down flat. He was up again in a second, and was starting to rush, when I looked at the watch, and found that I’d given them nearly half a minute too much already. So I shouted ‘Time,’ and made up my mind I’d keep more of an eye on the watch next round. I’d got so jolly excited, watching them, that I’d forgot I was supposed to be keeping time for them. They had only asked for a minute between the rounds, but as I’d given them half a minute too long in the first round, I chucked in a bit extra in the rest, so that they were both pretty fit by the time I started them again.
“The second round was just like the first, and so was the third. O’Hara kept getting the worst of it. He was knocked down three or four times more, and once, when he’d rushed Rand-Brown against one of the walls, he hit out and missed, and barked his knuckles jolly badly against the wall. That was in the middle of the third round, and Rand-Brown had it all his own way for the rest of the round—for about two minutes, that is to say. He hit O’Hara about all over the shop. I was so jolly keen on O’Hara’s winning, that I had half a mind to call time early, so as to give him time to recover. But I thought it would be a low thing to do, so I gave them their full three minutes.
“Directly they began the fourth round, I noticed that things were going to change a bit. O’Hara had given up his rushing game, and was waiting for his man, and when he came at him he’d put in a hot counter, nearly always at the body. After a bit Rand-Brown began to get cautious, and wouldn’t rush, so the fourth round was the quietest there had been. In the last minute they didn’t hit each other at all. They simply sparred for openings. It was in the fifth round that O’Hara began to forge ahead. About halfway through he got in a ripper, right in the wind, which almost doubled Rand-Brown up, and then he started rushing again. Rand-Brown looked awfully bad at the end of the round. Round six was ripping.
