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第28部分

the riverman-第28部分

小说: the riverman 字数: 每页4000字

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would suffice to throw her into one of her 〃spells;〃 a condition of 

alarming and possibly genuine collapse。  〃To drive mother into a 

spell〃 was an expression of the worst possible domestic crime。  It 

accused the perpetratorthrough Mrs。 Bishopof forgetting the 

state of affairs; of ingratitude for care and affection; of common 

inhumanity; and of impiety in rendering impossible of performance 

the multifarious church duties Mrs。 Bishop had invented and assumed 

as so many particularly shining virtues。  Orde soon discovered that 

Carroll went out in society very little for the simple reason that 

she could never give an unqualified acceptance to an invitation。  At 

the last moment; when she had donned her street wraps and the 

carriage was at the door; she was liable to be called back; either 

to assist at some religious function; which; by its sacred 

character; was supposed to have precedence over everything; or to 

attend a nervous crisis; brought on by some member of the household; 

or by mere untoward circumstances。  The girl always acquiesced most 

sweetly in these recurrent disappointments。  And the very fact that 

she accepted few invitations gave Orde many more chances to see her; 

in spite of Mrs。 Bishop's increasing exactions。  He did not realise 

this fact; however; but ground his teeth and clung blind…eyed to his 

temper whenever the mother cut short his visits or annulled his 

engagements on some petty excuse of her own。  He could almost 

believe these interruptions malicious; were it not that he soon 

discovered Mrs。 Bishop well disposed toward him personally whenever 

he showed himself ready to meet her even quarter way on the topics 

that interested herthe church and her health。



In this manner the week passed。  Orde saw as much as he could of 

Miss Bishop。  The remainder of the time he spent walking the streets 

and reading in the club rooms to which Gerald's courtesy had given 

him access。  Gerald himself seemed to be much occupied。  Precisely 

at eleven every morning; however; he appeared at the gymnasium for 

his practice; and in this Orde dropped into the habit of joining 

him。  When the young men first stripped in each other's presence; 

they eyed each other with a secret surprise。  Gerald's slender and 

elegant body turned out to be smoothly and gracefully muscled on the 

long lines of the Flying Mercury。  His bones were small; but his 

flesh was hard; and his skin healthy with the flow of blood beneath。  

Orde; on the other hand; had earned from the river the torso of an 

ancient athlete。  The round; full arch of his chest was topped by a 

mass of clean…cut muscle; across his back; beneath the smooth skin; 

the muscles rippled and ridged and dimpled with every movement; the 

beautiful curve of the deltoids; from the point of the shoulder to 

the arm; met the other beautiful curve of the unflexed biceps and 

that fulness of the back arm so often lacking in a one…sided 

development; the surface of the abdomen showed the peculiar 

corrugation of the very strong man; the round; columnar neck arose 

massive。



〃By Jove!〃 said Gerald; roused at last from his habitual apathy。



〃What's the matter?〃 asked Orde; looking up from tying the rubber…

soled shoes that Gerald had lent him。



〃Murphy;〃 called Gerald; 〃come here。〃



A very hairy; thick…set; bullet…headed man; the type of semi…

professional 〃handlers;〃 emerged from somewhere across the 

gymnasium。



〃Do you think you could down this fellow?〃 asked Gerald。



Murphy looked Orde over critically。



〃Who ye ringin' in on me?〃 he inquired。



〃This is a friend of mine;〃 said Gerald severely。



〃Beg your pardon。  The gentleman is well put up。  How much 

experience has he had?〃



〃Ever box much?〃 Gerald asked Orde。



〃Box?〃 Orde laughed。  〃Never had time for that sort of thing。  Had 

the gloves on a few times。〃



〃Where dil him。  He's a friend 

of mine。〃



Then he stepped back; the same joy in his soul that inspires a 

riverman when he encounters a high…banker; a hunter when he takes 

out a greenhorn; or a cowboy as he watches the tenderfoot about to 

climb the bronco。



〃Time!〃 said he。



The first round was sharp。  When Gerald called the end; Orde grinned 

at him cheerfully。



〃Don't look like I was much at this game; does it?〃 said he。  〃I 

wouldn't pull down many persimmons out of that tree。  Your 

confounded man's too lively; I couldn't hit him with a shotgun。〃



Orde had stood like a rock; his feet planted to the floor; while 

Murphy had circled around him hitting at will。  Orde hit back; but 

without landing。  Nevertheless Murphy; when questioned apart; did 

not seem satisfied。



〃The man's pig…iron;〃 said he。  〃I punched him plenty hard enough; 

and it didn't seem to jar hd you get your training; sir?〃 asked the handler。



〃My training?〃 repeated Orde; puzzled。  〃Oh; I see!  I was always 

pretty heavy; and I suppose the work on the river keeps a man in 

pretty good shape。〃



Gerald's languor had vanished; and a glint had appeared in his eye 

that would have reminded Orde of Miss Bishop's most mischievous mood 

could he have seen it。



〃Put on the gloves with Murphy;〃 he suggested; 〃will you?  I'd like 

to see you two at it。〃



〃Surely;〃 agreed Orde good…naturedly。  〃I'm not much good at it; but 

I'd just as soon try。〃  He was evidently not in the least afraid to 

meet the handler; though as evidently without much confidence in his 

own skill。



〃All right; I'll be with you in a second;〃 said Gerald; 

disappearing。  In the anteroom he rung a bell; and to the boy who 

leisurely answered its summons he said rapidly:



〃Run over to the club and find Mr。 Winslow; Mr。 Clark; and whoever 

else is in the smoking room; and tell them from me to cone over to 

the gymnasium。  Tell them there's some fun on。〃



Then he returned to the gymnasium floor; where Murphy was answering 

Orde's questions as to the apparatus。  While the two men were 

pulling on the gloves; Gerald managed a word apart with the trainer。



〃Can you do him; Murph?〃 he whispered。



〃Sure!〃 said the handler。  〃Them kind's always as slow as dray…

horses。  They gets muscle…bound。〃



〃Give it to him;〃 said Gerald; 〃but don't kilim。〃



The gallery at one end the running track had by flow half filled 

with interested spectators。



〃Time!〃 called Gerald for round two。



This time Murphy went in more viciously; aiming and measuring his 

blows accurately。  Orde stood as before; a humourous smile of self…

depreciation on his face; hitting back at the elusive Murphy; but 

without much effect; his feet never stirring in their tracks。  The 

handler used his best tactics and landed almost at will; but without 

apparent damage。  He grew uglyfinally lost his head。



〃Well; if ye will have it!〃 he muttered; and aimed what was intended 

as a knockout blow。



Gerald uttered a half cry of warning as his practised eye caught 

Murphy's intention。  The blow landed。  Orde's head snapped back; but 

to the surprise of every one the punch had no other effect; and a 

quick exchange of infighting sent Murphy staggering back from the 

encounter。  The smile had disappeared from Orde's face; and his eye 

had calmed。



〃Look here;〃 he called to Gerald; 〃I don't understand this game very 

well。  At school we used 'taps。'  Is a man supposed to hit hard?〃



Gerald hesitated; then looked beyond Orde to the gallery。  To a man 

it made frantic and silent demonstration。



〃Of course you hit;〃 he replied。  〃You can't hurt any one with those 

big gloves。〃



Orde turned back to his antagonist。  The latter advanced once more; 

his bullet head sunk between his shoulders; his little eyes 

twinkling。  Evidently Mr。 Bishop's friend would now take the 

aggressive; and forward movement would deliver an extra force to the 

professional's blows。



Orde did not wait for Murphy; however。  Like a tiger he sprang 

forward; hitting out fiercely; first with one hand then with the 

other。  Murphy gave ground; blocked; ducked; exerted all a ring 

general's skill either to stop or avoid the rush。  Orde followed him 

insistent。  Several times he landed; but always when Murphy was on 

the retreat; so the blows had not much weight。  Several times Murphy 

ducked in and planted a number of short…arm jabs at close range。  

The round ended almost immediately to a storm of applause from the 

galleries。



〃What do you think of his being muscle…bound?〃 Gerald asked Murphy; 

as the latter flung himself panting on the wrestling mat for his 

rest。



〃He's quick as chained lightning;〃 acknowledged the other 

grudgingly。  〃But I'll get him。  He can't keep that up; he'll be 

winded in half a minute。〃



Orde sat down on a roll of mat。  His smile had quite vanished; and 

he seemed to be awaiting eagerly the beginning of the next round。



〃Time!〃 called Gerald for the third。



Orde immediately sprang at his adversary; repeating the headlong 

rush with which the previous round had ended。  Murphy blocked; 

ducked; and kept away; occasionally delivering a jolt as opportunity 

offered; awaiting the time when Orde's weariness would leave him at 

the other's mercy。  That moment did not come。  The young man 

hammered away tirelessly; insistently; delivering a hurricane of his 

two…handed blows; pressing relentlessly in as Murphy shifted and 

gave ground; his head up; his eyes steady; oblivious to the return 

hammering the now desperate handler opposed to him。  Two minutes 

passed without perceptible slackening in this terrific pace。  The 

gallery was in an uproar; and some of the members were piling down 

the stairs to the floor。  Perspiration stood out all over Murphy's 

body。  His blows failed of their effect; and some of Orde's were 

landing。  At length; bewildered more by the continuance than the 

violence of the attac

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