The business of the afternoon began in earnest A brace of lads stood up, stripped to the waist They shook hands, and set to work. The men were mere clowns, but the exhibition was anything but clownish. In that part of the world, at least, the traditions of the game were kept alive, and there was plenty of sound scientific fighting to be seen. Paul knew enough to recognise it when he saw it, and he had not watched two minutes before he knew that in this instance he was hopelessly outclassed.
‘I’m in for a hiding,’ he said to himself. ‘A chap in search of the lofty ideal will have to make up his mind to a pretty good hiding, too. If you’re eating for honour, you mustn’t leave anything on the trencher.’ He watched the fight keenly, but he watched it with a heart that danced unevenly. ‘Yes,’ he thought; ‘I shall have to take a bellyful.’
The combat was brief and decisive.
‘Sivin an’ a quarter minutes of a round,’ said the master of the ceremonies; ‘an’ a pretty bit o’ fightin.’ Theed’st best get ready,’ turning to Paul. ‘The little un’s pumped. He’ll ask for a second helpin’, but that’ll finish him.’
The prophecy was realized, and Paul found himself in a brief space of time standing hand in hand with Master Tonks, and looking him squarely in the eye. The fist Paul held in his own was like a mason’s mallet, but its owner was of a clumsy and shambling build. Paul silently breathed the one word ‘tactics,’ and he and his opponent fell back from each other. He thought Master Tonk’s attitude curiously awkward, but he had no guess as to what lay behind it. He sparred for an opening. It looked all opening, and he wondered, and half dropped his hands.
‘Goo in!’ said somebody, in a jeering voice. ‘Goo in, one or t’other on ye!’
Paul went in, and Master Tonks went down. He was picked up, and knocked down again.
‘Why, what is it,’ asked Paul. ‘You’ve got no guard, lad.’
‘I told thee how it ud be,’ said one of the onlookers, addressing Master Tonks, as he sat upon the turf nursing his nose in the hollow of his arm. ‘Ye see, lads,’ he continued, ‘it’s like this: This is Turn Tunks, this is—Billy’s brother. They’m my nevews, the pair on ‘em. Billy’s laid up with a broken leg, and Turn’s come here to show for him for the honour o’ the family. I thought he knowed a bit about it, or I wouldn’t ha’ suffered him to come.’
So this part of the contest ended in fiasco, but the next combat and the next were spirited and skilful The four victors in the first bout drew straws for the second. The winner of the first fight fell to Paul’s share.