Scott Burton, Forester

by Edward G. Cheyney

With these final instructions Scott walked out to meet his opponent. The man opposed to him was indeed a giant; he had never boxed with such a big man, and he saw the last gleam of hope dying in the freshman ranks. That would have taken the courage out of many men, but it only made Scott the more determined to save his class’s honor, and bring everlasting fame to the foresters.

The big fellow shook hands condescendingly with a rather patronizing air, which maddened Scott. In stepping back from the handshake the big fellow took a leisurely and rather contemptuous slap at his opponent’s head, but that was the last chance he had to show his superiority. Scott dodged like a flash and landed a straight punch in the big fellow’s stomach. The ease with which he had lorded it over the whole University for a year had made him careless, but he was a good boxer and he knew that he could not afford to play with this new man. Scott left him no time to think it out. He pushed the attack with a fury that brought the spectators to their feet, and wrung from the freshmen the first real cheer they had had the heart to give since the cane rush was decided. Scott rushed his opponent again and again, each time breaking away with a vicious hook to the short ribs that worked havoc with the big fellow’s wind—none too good at the first. It was not, however, a one-sided fight by any means. The sophomore’s superior reach and weight gave him a great advantage, especially in the out-fighting, and he was not slow in grasping the opportunities. Scott’s rushing tactics forced him to make some good openings and it was only his ability to stand punishment that saved him several times.

During the first round he was rushing in on his opponent when he received a straight punch in the right eye that landed him flat on his back. The hopes of the freshman class fell with him, but Scott was up again like a rubber ball amidst a perfect tempest of cheers, was inside the big sophomore’s guard almost before that gentleman realized what had happened, beat a veritable tattoo on his short ribs and was away clear without being touched. He was fighting as strongly and furiously as ever, while his opponent was laboring heavily.

But Scott still had to be very careful to avoid those vicious swings. Twice he received blows on the chin which sent his head back with a snap, and which would have knocked out a less hardened man. He saw that his man was weakening and gave him no peace. He had rushed him to the ropes and was fighting at close range in the hope of getting a chance at his jaw when the whistle ended the first round.

Johnson received him with open arms, and wrapped the bathrobe carefully about him. “You’ve got him going, Scotty, if you can keep up another round like that you’ll get him easy. Can you do it?”

“Yes,” Scott answered, “ten of ’em, if he doesn’t knock my head off in the meantime. He certainly landed some dandy blows on me.”

“Why don’t you play for his jaw more? You’re just hammering away at his ribs all the time; you can’t hurt him there,” Johnson remonstrated.

Scott laughed, “You don’t realize how tall he is. I can’t reach his face unless I’m in close and then I am afraid to reach up so high; it would give him too big an opening. Those rib blows count in the long run, but I do not believe myself that they will be any good in a two-round fight. I’ll have to risk it this time, I guess.”

Johnson was delighted to see that his hero was not winded in the least, and he watched the heavings of the bathrobe opposite with huge satisfaction. The freshmen were hopeful once more, and answered the taunts of the sophomores with some spirit.

At the sound of the whistle Scott shot to his feet like a jack-in-the-box and met his opponent three-fourths of the way across the ring. He tried some sparring at long range, but found that he was still outclassed, even though the sophomore was plainly showing his fatigue. Several stiff blows about the face showed him that it was not yet safe. Once more he ducked, charged, and pounded the big fellow’s wind. He received a blow on the jaw when he thought he was clear out of reach, but he realized that the old vim was no longer back of it.