Again Ogden shrugged resignedly. On tiptoe Denny followed him to the locker-rooms in the rear, and at a word of direction began to remove his clothes. While he plunged head-foremost into a bin in search for a pair of white trunks, Ogden kept up a steady stream of advice calculated to save the other at least a small percentage of punishment.
“Sutton’s big,” he exclaimed jerkily, head out of sight, “but he isn’t fast on his feet. That’s why they call him Boots. He steps around as though he had on waders––hip-high ones. But he’s lightning hitting from close in––in-fighting they call it––where most big fighters don’t shine. That’s because he’s had Flash’s coaching. You want to keep away from him––keep him at arm’s length, and maybe he won’t do too much harm. I––I’d let him do all the leading, if I were you, and––and kind of run ahead of him.” The voice came half-smothered from the cluttered bin of equipment. “That isn’t running away from him because you’re afraid, you understand. It’s just playing him to tire him out, you know!”
It was silent for a moment while Bobby Ogden burrowed for the necessary canvas shoes. Then a hushed laugh broke that quiet and brought the latter bolt upright. With the trunks in one hand and the rubber-soled slippers in the other, Ogden stood and stared, only half understanding that the big boy before him was laughing at him for his 182 solicitude and trying to reassure him with that same mirth.
“Funny, is it?” he snorted aggrievedly. “So very––very––funny? Well, I only hope you’ll be able to laugh that way again––say even in a month or two!”
“I wasn’t laughing at you,” Young Denny told him soberly. “I––I was just thinking how strange it seemed to have somebody worried over me––worried because they were afraid I might get hurt. Most little mix-ups I’ve gone into have worried folks––lest I wouldn’t.”
CHAPTER XIII
When he had first looked up from the green-topped table and seen him standing there in the entrance of the gymnasium Ogden had only sensed the bigness of Denny Bolton’s body––only vaguely felt the promise which his smooth black suit concealed. It was the face that had interested him most at that moment, and yet he had not even noticed the half healed cut that ran almost to the point of the chin. Young Denny’s grave explanation of his quiet mirth caused him to look closer––made him really wonder now what had been its cause. There was a frankly inquisitive question half-formed behind his lips, but when he turned to find Denny sitting stripped to the waist, waiting for the garments which he held in his hands, he merely stood and stared. Bobby Ogden had seen many men stripped for the ring. It took more than an ordinary man to make him look even once––but he could not take his eyes off this boy before him. Once he whistled softly between his teeth in unconcealed amazement; once he walked entirely around him, exclaiming softly to himself. Then he remembered.