“You don’t mean match me with this Goulet?” said Jim.
“That’s exactly what I mean” says Moon. “All right,” says Jim: “You’re my matchmaker and I fight who you pick out. But I don’t see how you come to overlook Benny Leonard.”
III
I stayed round town and seen Larry two or three times, “It’s going to be softer than I figured,” he told me. “Those writers over in England has went cuckoo over the Frenchman. They was so nuts about Bradford that they think the guy that stopped him must be a cave man. And our papers is printing all the junk and their readers falls for it. As a matter of fact, I suppose Johnny Coulon could knock Bradford acrost the channel, but don’t tell nobody I said that. Though I guess they wouldn’t believe it anyway. The combination of what them big English reporters say, along with Goulet being a war hero and handsome—well, it’s making him a popular idol in America.
“But the thing’s got to be nursed along and worked up, and that’s my job. It’ll take time, but it’ll be worth it. The tough problem ain’t getting the fans steamed up. They’ll take care of themselves. What I’ve got to do is convince some guy with money and a lot of nerve that it would be a fight, not a murder. I’ve already stuck one line in the papers that I’m proud of. Maybe you seen it. I said that while Jim Dugan wasn’t scared of nobody in the world, still he felt like he ought to give the American contenders first shot. Because this Goulet has showed that he’s got a wallop and he might land a lucky one on Jim. And we’d hate to see the title leave the old U.S.A. Not so bad, was it?”
A few weeks later it was in the papers that Goulet and his manager, La Chance, was coming over. The picture people had made the Frenchman a sweet offer and they was no money to be picked up in France even for a champion.
“All I hope,” said Moon, “is that he won’t get seasick. Judging from his pictures, he ain’t no sideshow fat man at best and we don’t want him to look no skinnier than usual or our match will be all wet.”
Well, I don’t know if he’d been seasick or not, but he certainly was a brittle-looking bird. The first time I seen him, up to one of the roof shows, I thought the guy that pointed him out must be mistaken. But it really was him—a pale, frail boy that if he’d went to college, the football coaches would of rushed him for cheerleader. As for him standing up in a box fight with the man that had sprinkled Big Wheeler all over Ohio, well, it was just a laugh.
“You may as well forget it,” I said when I seen Moon. “Your show’s a flop and you won’t get no backer.”
“Watch me,” he says. “Give me time and a fair break in the luck!”
So one day he calls up the hotel where the Frenchman was staying and made a date with his manager, La Chance.
“Listen, Mr. La Chance,” he said. “If you’ll let me have a free hand, and you do what I say, I can make some real money for you and me both. Suppose I could get your man matched with Dugan. How much would you want for your share?”
“I can’t speak no English,” said La Chance.
“How about two hundred thousand dollars?” said Moon.
This time he really couldn’t speak no English. He’d swooned.
They called the house physician and brought him to and laid him on the bed.
“A heart attack!” says the Doc. “Don’t let him get excited.”
“All right,” said Larry. “I guess I better go.”
He started to follow the doctor out.
“Wait a minute!” says the sick man of Europe.
So Moon turned round and come back.
“My heart’s all right now,” said La Chance. “It was just the first shock.
“You made mention of a sum of money—two hundred thousand—was it francs?”
“I don’t know nothing about francs,” said Larry. “I asked you a plain question: Will your man fight my man for two hundred thousand dollars?”
“How much would our share be?” said La Chance.
“I’m talking about your share,” says Larry. “Two hundred thousand for you, draw, lose or get killed.”
La Chance sprung at him with a kiss for both cheeks, but Larry ducked away.
“You’ve got to let me run this,” he said. “You’ve got to put yourself in my hands and do everything I say.”
“Absolutely!” says the Frenchman.
“All right,” says Larry. “Now, in the first place, don’t get the idear in your head that this is going to be a quick cleanup. It’ll take time—maybe a year. What are you fellas going to do when you’ve finished your picture?”
“Well,” said La Chance, “we thought maybe we’d stay over here and have a few fights.”
“No!” says Larry. “You go right back home and don’t fight nobody! You stay there till you hear from me. I think it’d be a good idear for you to have one bout in this country, to show that your man can knock somebody besides that English tumbler. But I’ll pick out the man for you to fight and I’ll let you know when I’ve got him. He’ll be somebody that you can’t help licking, not by no possible chance. You won’t get much money for it, but it’ll be advertising. Is that all right with you?”
“Oui, oui,” says La Chance. “What else?”
“Nothing else,” said Moon.
IV
Several months is supposed to elapse between these two acts. During this time Dugan has to eat, so he takes on a setup out in Michigan and knocks him in three rounds, or two rounds longer than necessary. Also, they pick out a guy for Goulet to trim—old Tommy Fogel. This “fight” takes place over in Jersey and Tommy surprises them. He manages to stand up three
