the game-第6部分

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wall　of　the　room。







CHAPTER　IV







She　hurried　to　the　peep…hole；　and　found　herself　against　the　ring。

She　could　see　the　whole　of　it；　though　part　of　the　audience　was　shut

off。　　The　ring　was　well　lighted　by　an　overhead　cluster　of　patent

gas…burners。　　The　front　row　of　the　men　she　had　squeezed　past；

because　of　their　paper　and　pencils；　she　decided　to　be　reporters　from

the　local　papers　up…town。　　One　of　them　was　chewing　gum。　　Behind

them；　on　the　other　two　rows　of　seats；　she　could　make　out　firemen

from　the　near…by　engine…house　and　several　policemen　in　uniform。　　In

the　middle　of　the　front　row；　flanked　by　the　reporters；　sat　the　young

chief　of　police。　　She　was　startled　by　catching　sight　of　Mr。　Clausen

on　the　opposite　side　of　the　ring。　　There　he　sat；　austere；　side…

whiskered；　pink　and　white；　close　up　against　the　front　of　the　ring。

Several　seats　farther　on；　in　the　same　front　row；　she　discovered

Silverstein；　his　weazen　features　glowing　with　anticipation。



A　few　cheers　heralded　the　advent　of　several　young　fellows；　in　shirt…

sleeves；　carrying　buckets；　bottles；　and　towels；　who　crawled　through

the　ropes　and　crossed　to　the　diagonal　corner　from　her。　　One　of　them

sat　down　on　a　stool　and　leaned　back　against　the　ropes。　　She　saw　that

he　was　bare…legged；　with　canvas　shoes　on　his　feet；　and　that　his　body

was　swathed　in　a　heavy　white　sweater。　　In　the　meantime　another　group

had　occupied　the　corner　directly　against　her。　　Louder　cheers　drew

her　attention　to　it；　and　she　saw　Joe　seated　on　a　stool　still　clad　in

the　bath　robe；　his　short　chestnut　curls　within　a　yard　of　her　eyes。



A　young　man；　in　a　black　suit；　with　a　mop　of　hair　and　a

preposterously　tall　starched　collar；　walked　to　the　centre　of　the

ring　and　held　up　his　hand。



〃Gentlemen　will　please　stop　smoking；〃　he　said。



His　effort　was　applauded　by　groans　and　cat…calls；　and　she　noticed

with　indignation　that　nobody　stopped　smoking。　　Mr。　Clausen　held　a

burning　match　in　his　fingers　while　the　announcement　was　being　made；

and　then　calmly　lighted　his　cigar。　　She　felt　that　she　hated　him　in

that　moment。　　How　was　her　Joe　to　fight　in　such　an　atmosphere？　　She

could　scarcely　breathe　herself；　and　she　was　only　sitting　down。



The　announcer　came　over　to　Joe。　　He　stood　up。　　His　bath　robe　fell

away　from　him；　and　he　stepped　forth　to　the　centre　of　the　ring；　naked

save　for　the　low　canvas　shoes　and　a　narrow　hip…cloth　of　white。

Genevieve's　eyes　dropped。　　She　sat　alone；　with　none　to　see；　but　her

face　was　burning　with　shame　at　sight　of　the　beautiful　nakedness　of

her　lover。　　But　she　looked　again；　guiltily；　for　the　joy　that　was

hers　in　beholding　what　she　knew　must　be　sinful　to　behold。　　The　leap

of　something　within　her　and　the　stir　of　her　being　toward　him　must　be

sinful。　　But　it　was　delicious　sin；　and　she　did　not　deny　her　eyes。

In　vain　Mrs。　Grundy　admonished　her。　　The　pagan　in　her；　original　sin；

and　all　nature　urged　her　on。　　The　mothers　of　all　the　past　were

whispering　through　her；　and　there　was　a　clamour　of　the　children

unborn。　　But　of　this　she　knew　nothing。　　She　knew　only　that　it　was

sin；　and　she　lifted　her　head　proudly；　recklessly　resolved；　in　one

great　surge　of　revolt；　to　sin　to　the　uttermost。



She　had　never　dreamed　of　the　form　under　the　clothes。　　The　form；

beyond　the　hands　and　the　face；　had　no　part　in　her　mental　processes。

A　child　of　garmented　civilization；　the　garment　was　to　her　the　form。

The　race　of　men　was　to　her　a　race　of　garmented　bipeds；　with　hands

and　faces　and　hair…covered　heads。　　When　she　thought　of　Joe；　the　Joe

instantly　visualized　on　her　mind　was　a　clothed　Joegirl…cheeked；

blue…eyed；　curly…headed；　but　clothed。　　And　there　he　stood；　all　but

naked；　godlike；　in　a　white　blaze　of　light。　　She　had　never　conceived

of　the　form　of　God　except　as　nebulously　naked；　and　the　thought…

association　was　startling。　　It　seemed　to　her　that　her　sin　partook　of

sacrilege　or　blasphemy。



Her　chromo…trained　aesthetic　sense　exceeded　its　education　and　told

her　that　here　were　beauty　and　wonder。　　She　had　always　liked　the

physical　presentment　of　Joe；　but　it　was　a　presentment　of　clothes；

and　she　had　thought　the　pleasingness　of　it　due　to　the　neatness　and

taste　with　which　he　dressed。　　She　had　never　dreamed　that　this　lurked

beneath。　　It　dazzled　her。　　His　skin　was　fair　as　a　woman's；　far　more

satiny；　and　no　rudimentary　hair…growth　marred　its　white　lustre。

This　she　perceived；　but　all　the　rest；　the　perfection　of　line　and

strength　and　development；　gave　pleasure　without　her　knowing　why。

There　was　a　cleanness　and　grace　about　it。　　His　face　was　like　a

cameo；　and　his　lips；　parted　in　a　smile；　made　it　very　boyish。



He　smiled　as　he　faced　the　audience；　when　the　announcer；　placing　a

hand　on　his　shoulder；　said：　　〃Joe　Fleming；　the　Pride　of　West

Oakland。〃



Cheers　and　hand…clappings　stormed　up；　and　she　heard　affectionate

cries　of　〃Oh；　you；　Joe！〃　　Men　shouted　it　at　him　again　and　again。



He　walked　back　to　his　corner。　　Never　to　her　did　he　seem　less　a

fighter　than　then。　　His　eyes　were　too　mild；　there　was　not　a　spark　of

the　beast　in　them；　nor　in　his　face；　while　his　body　seemed　too

fragile；　what　of　its　fairness　and　smoothness；　and　his　face　too

boyish　and　sweet…tempered　and　intelligent。　　She　did　not　have　the

expert's　eye　for　the　depth　of　chest；　the　wide　nostrils；　the

recuperative　lungs；　and　the　muscles　under　their　satin　sheaths

crypts　of　energy　wherein　lurked　the　chemistry　of　destruction。　　To

her　he　looked　like　a　something　of　Dresden　china；　to　be　handled

gently　and　with　care；　liable　to　be　shattered　to　fragments　by　the

first　rough　touch。



John　Ponta；　stripped　of　his　white　sweater　by　the　pulling　and　hauling

of　two　of　his　seconds；　came　to　the　centre　of　the　ring。　　She　knew

terror　as　she　looked　at　him。　　Here　was　the　fighterthe　beast　with　a

streak　for　a　forehead；　with　beady　eyes　under　lowering　and　bushy

brows；　flat…nosed；　thick…lipped；　sullen…mouthed。　　He　was　heavy…

jawed；　bull…necked；　and　the　short；　straight　hair　of　the　head　seemed

to　her　frightened　eyes　the　stiff　bristles　on　a　hog's　back。　　Here

were　coarseness　and　brutishnessa　thing　savage；　primordial；

ferocious。　　He　was　swarthy　to　blackness；　and　his　body　was　covered

with　a　hairy　growth　that　matted　like　a　dog's　on　his　chest　and

shoulders。　　He　was　deep…chested；　thick…legged；　large…muscled；　but

unshapely。　　His　muscles　were　knots；　and　he　was　gnarled　and　knobby；

twisted　out　of　beauty　by　excess　of　strength。



〃John　Ponta；　West　Bay　Athletic　Club；〃　said　the　announcer。



A　much　smaller　volume　of　cheers　greeted　him。　　It　was　evident　that

the　crowd　favored　Joe　with　its　sympathy。



〃Go　in　an'　eat　'm；　Ponta！　　Eat　'm　up！〃　a　voice　shouted　in　the　lull。



This　was　received　by　scornful　cries　and　groans。　　He　did　not　like　it；

for　his　sullen　mouth　twisted　into　a　half…snarl　as　he　went　back　to

his　corner。　　He　was　too　decided　an　atavism　to　draw　the　crowd's

admiration。　　Instinctively　the　crowd　disliked　him。　　He　was　an

animal；　lacking　in　intelligence　and　spirit；　a　menace　and　a　thing　of

fear；　as　the　tiger　and　the　snake　are　menaces　and　things　of　fear；

better　behind　the　bars　of　a　cage　than　running　free　in　the　open。



And　he　felt　that　the　crowd　had　no　relish　for　him。　　He　was　like　an

animal　in　the　circle　of　its　enemies；　and　he　turned　and　glared　at

them　with　malignant　eyes。　　Little　Silverstein；　shouting　out　Joe's

name　with　high　glee；　shrank　away　from　Ponta's　gaze；　shrivelled　as　in

fierce　heat；　the　sound　gurgling　and　dying　in　his　throat。　　Genevieve

saw　the　little　by…play；　and　as　Ponta's　eyes　slowly　swept　round　the

circle　of　their　hate　and　met　hers；　she；　too；　shrivelled　and　shrank

back。　　The　next　moment　they　were　past；　pausing　to　centre　long　on

Joe。　　It　seemed　to　her　that　Ponta　was　working　himself　into　a　rage。

Joe　returned　the　gaze　with　mild　boy's　eyes；　but　his　face　grew

serious。



The　announcer　escorted　a　third　man　to　the　centre　of　the　ring；　a

genial…faced　young　fellow　in　shirt…sleeves。



〃Eddy　Jones；　who　will　referee　this　contest；〃　said　the　announcer。



〃Oh；　you；　Eddy！〃　men　shouted　in　the　midst　of　the　applause；　and　it

was　apparent　to　Genevieve　that　he；　too；　was　well　beloved。



Both　men　were　being　helped　into　the　gloves　by　their　seconds；　and　one

of　Ponta's　seconds　came　over　and　examined　the　gloves　before　they

went　on　Joe's　hands。　　The　referee　called　them　to　the　centre　of　the

ring。　　The　seconds　followed；　and　they　made　quite　a　group；　Joe　and

Ponta　facing　each　other；　the　referee　in　the　middle；　the　seconds

leaning　with　hands　on　one　another's　shoulders；　their　heads　craned

forward。　　The　referee　was　talking；　and　all　listened　attentively。



The　group　broke　up。　　Again　the　announcer　came　to　the　front。



〃Joe　Fleming　fights　at　one　hundred　and　twenty…eight；〃　he　said；　〃John

Ponta　at　one　hundred　and　forty。　　They　will　fight　as　long　as　one　hand

is　free；　and　take　care　of　themselves　in　the　break…away。　　The

audience　must　remember　that　a　decision　must　be　given。　　There　are　no

draws　fought　before　this　club。〃



He　cra