CHAPTER XVI
JACK MAKES A NAME FOR HIMSELF
Frank, who had never seen Jack exhibit his prowess in the fistic art, and who was rather a skillful boxer himself, though by no means a heavyweight, muttered to himself:
"Why didn't I insist on taking him on myself? Jack is due for a good lacing. He's strong enough, but he hasn't the science, I'm afraid."
He stood nervously in his friend's corner.
The Frenchman opened the fight with a rush, and his friends uttered subdued cheers and encouragement as he dashed at Jack. In size, it appeared that the two were about evenly matched, although the Frenchman was a shade taller than his opponent.
That his comrades believed him a master of the fistic art was evinced by their cries:
"Finish him up quickly."
"Let him stay a couple of rounds."
"No; one round's enough."
The Frenchman rushed, evidently having decided to finish the fight as quickly as possible. His expression showed that he had no doubt of his ability to polish off the Englishman and of his superiority as a boxer.
Jack met the first rush calmly, and with a slight smile on his face. His guard was perfect and not a blow reached him. The Frenchman landed blow after blow upon Jack's arms, with which the lad covered first his face and then his body.
Frank, having a knowledge of boxing, realized that he was witnessing a defense that was indeed remarkable, and muttered happily to himself. But to the rest of the spectators it appeared that their idol was hitting his man at will, and they continued to encourage him with low words, at the same time hurling epithets at Jack.
So far Jack had not attempted to strike a blow; nor had he given ground. He had presented a perfect defense to his opponent, who danced rapidly about him, striking from this side and that. The round ended, and still Jack had not offered at his opponent.
The Frenchman himself, however, skillful boxer that he was, was not deceived. He realized, as he rested in his corner, that he had met a foeman worthy of the best he had to offer. As yet, though, he had no means of telling what the lad had in store for an attack of his own; but he realized that Jack's defense was well-nigh perfect.
Therefore, when they advanced to the middle of the ring for the second round, he was more wary, for he had no mind to let Jack slip over a hard blow through carelessness. Suddenly Jack led with his right, then made as if to land with his left. The Frenchman threw up his arm to guard the latter blow, and Jack's right, which had not been checked—the feint with the left having made the desired opening—caught the Frenchman flush on the nose.
The Frenchman staggered back. Jack followed this advantage with a quick left and then another right to the Frenchman's face. Both blows had steam behind them, and his opponent, plainly in distress, covered up quickly and cinched.
In the clinch he attempted to deliver several short arm blows, but Jack was prepared for this kind of fighting, and blocked them with ease. Finally the two broke, and the Frenchman stood on the defensive.
It was apparent to all who were not too prejudiced that he now stood in awe of his opponent's hitting power.
Then they stood off and boxed at long range, and Jack trimmed his adversary beautifully. Tiring of this, the Frenchman rushed, but time was called as he swung wildly. In swinging he left a wide opening. Jack, starting a hard blow, turned it aside when the referee called time.
"Where did you learn to box?" asked Frank breathlessly between rounds.
"Why," said Jack, with a smile, "from my father. He was rather proficient in the use of his fists."
"He must have been," said Frank dryly. "Why didn't you tell me you could box?"
"You never asked me," replied Jack calmly.
He arose and walked slowly to meet his opponent as the referee again called time.
"Now, my friend," said Jack to his opponent, "I am going to give you as good a licking as you ever have had."
He feinted with dazzling rapidity several times, and drove a straight left to the Frenchman's ear. With lightning-like quickness he played a tattoo upon the Frenchman's face and body. Bewildered, his opponent dashed into a clinch.
"If you say so, we'll call this off right here," said Jack.
The Frenchman suddenly freed himself, and his reply to this kindly offer was to send a jab to Jack's nose, drawing blood.
"Just for that," said Jack quietly, who felt somewhat ashamed at having been caught off his guard, "I'll finish this fight right now. There is no need prolonging it."
Once, twice, he rocked the Frenchman's head, and then, as the latter came forward in a last desperate effort, Jack pivoted on his heel, and, starting his left low, swung. The Frenchman checked himself in his attack, and desperately tried to leap back.
But it was too late. Through his guard went the blow, and, catching the Frenchman on the point of the chin, it lifted him from his feet and into the air.
At least four feet through the air went the Frenchman, and came to the deck, head first, at the feet of his friends. He lay there while the referee counted him out.
Quickly Jack leaped forward, and, kneeling, raised his late opponent's head.
"Water, some of you," he called.
It was quickly brought, and Jack, wetting his handkerchief, bathed the Frenchman's face. His efforts were at last rewarded by a slight groan, and finally the unconscious man opened his eyes.
"What hit me?" he asked in a faint whisper.
"It's all right, old man," said Jack. "You'll be all right in a second."
Slowly the light of comprehension dawned in the Frenchman's eyes. He struggled to his feet, where he stood uncertainly for a few moments, looking at his conqueror.
Jack extended a hand.
"I'm sorry I had to do it," he said, a pleasant smile lighting up his face.
The Frenchman looked at him in silence for a full minute, then, stepping forward, he grasped the outstretched hand.
"What are you," he demanded, grinning, "a prizefighter?"
"No," said Jack, with a laugh, "but I guess I have had better training than you."
"Well," said the Frenchman, "if you ever need anybody to help you out, you can count on me. Maybe some day you will bump up against someone who can best you, but I believe the two of us together can put him down."
"Thanks," laughed Jack, "I'll remember that offer when the time comes."
The other French middies now gathered found and shook Jack and Frank both by the hand, while the one who had first made himself odious apologized profusely for his actions.
"Say no more about it," exclaimed Frank. "I'm glad we're all friends at last."
Further conversation was interrupted by the sudden sound of a bugle on deck. It was the call to quarters.
Quickly all sprang to their posts. Men dashed hither and thither, and in almost less time than it takes to tell it the Marie Theresa was cleared for action.
Then, at last having time to glance about, the two lads made out the cause of this sudden call. Several miles across the water could be seen two small cruisers. A closer look showed the boys the German flag flying at the masthead of each.
"Now," said Frank to Jack, "we'll have an opportunity of seeing how the French fight."
"They'll fight," said Jack briefly. "You may make sure of that."
"Nevertheless I would rather that we had an English crew."
Now the range was signaled to the gunners, and the Marie Theresa quivered and recoiled as the first of her big guns spoke. The shot fell short. Again the range was signaled, and once more the shot fell short, though nearer, the first of the German cruisers.
The third shot plowed up the water under her bow.
"We have the range now," said Jack, "we'll hit her next time."
His words proved true. A solid shot, hurled by one of the Marie Theresa's forward guns, struck the first German cruiser squarely in the side. The two following ones hit her just below the water line.
"That's pretty good shooting, if you ask me," said Frank enthusiastically.
But now the Germans also had succeeded in finding the range, and a shell burst over the Marie Theresa, hurling its fragments upon the deck. Five men went down, never to rise again.
As the battle progressed the two German cruisers drew farther and farther apart, until now they poured their fire upon the Marie Theresa from two directions. To avoid this cross fire, the commander of the Marie Theresa signaled full speed ahead, and dashed straight for the nearest of the enemy.
In spite of the galling fire from both of the enemy, the Marie Theresa bore down on the German cruiser. Too late the latter turned to flee from her larger opponent; but her guns continued to pour in her fire.
Although raked from stem to stern, the Marie Theresa had not been hit in a vital spot. The first German cruiser turned to run, but, by a quick maneuver, Captain Dreyfuss plowed into her as she turned. The sharp prow of the Marie Theresa crashed into the German amidships, and so terrific was the impact that the French ship recoiled.
But it was the death-blow of the German cruiser. Men leaped into the small boats and put off from the ship, or flung themselves head first into the sea. The Marie Theresa drew off and turned her attention to the other German cruiser.
But the latter had had enough. She turned quickly and headed west. Boats were lowered from the Marie Theresa and hurried to the aid of the survivors of the enemy. Many were picked up and taken aboard the French ship.
On the bridge of the German cruiser' now settling fast, could be seen the German commander. Several officers were gathered about him. They were gesticulating violently, but to each the captain shook his head negatively.
"They'll all be drowned if they don't hurry," said Captain
Dreyfuss anxiously. "Why don't the fools jump!"
Suddenly the German commander drew a revolver from his pocket, and pointed it directly at the protesting officers. They drew back. The German commander followed them.
One by one they threw themselves into the sea all but one. At him the commander pointed revolver, and shook his head vigorously. The latter protested.
Finally the German commander hurled his weapon far into the sea, and held out his hand. The officer took it, and, arm in arm, the two walked, back to the bridge.
The German cruiser lurched heavily, but the two German officers were unmindful of it. Calmly the commander drew two cigars from his pocket, and offered one to the officer. The latter accepted it, and, taking a match from his pocket, struck it calmly.
He held the match so his commander could get a light, then lighted his own cigar. Thus the two stood, calmly smoking, as the cruiser settled.
Slowly the fatally wounded craft sank lower and lower in the water, until nothing was visible below the bridge. Then, with a sudden lurch, this to disappeared—nothing but the mast remained—then nothing at all.
The German commander had gone down with his ship—as had so many before him—as would so many after him.
The commander of the Marie Theresa lifted his cap, uttering no word—a silent tribute to a hero.