“Well, what do you advise me to do, then?” asked Trevor, impressed by the unwonted earnestness with which the Irishman delivered this pugilistic homily, which was a paraphrase of the views dinned into the ears of every novice by the school instructor.
“I must do something.”
“The best thing ye can do,” said O’Hara, thinking for a moment, “is to put on the gloves and have a round or two with me. Here’s Moriarty at last. We’ll get him to time us.”
As much explanation as was thought good for him having been given to the newcomer, to account for Trevor’s newly-acquired taste for things pugilistic, Moriarty took the watch, with instructions to give them two minutes for the first round.
“Go as hard as you can,” said O’Hara to Trevor, as they faced one another, “and hit as hard as you like. It won’t be any practice if you don’t. I sha’n’t mind being hit. It’ll do me good for Aldershot. See?”
Trevor said he saw.
“Time,” said Moriarty.
Trevor went in with a will. He was a little shy at first of putting all his weight into his blows. It was hard to forget that he felt friendly towards O’Hara. But he speedily awoke to the fact that the Irishman took his boxing very seriously, and was quite a different person when he had the gloves on. When he was so equipped, the man opposite him ceased to be either friend or foe in a private way. He was simply an opponent, and every time he hit him was one point. And, when he entered the ring, his only object in life for the next three minutes was to score points. Consequently Trevor, sparring lightly and in rather a futile manner at first, was woken up by a stinging flush hit between the eyes. After that he, too, forgot that he liked the man before him, and rushed him in all directions. There was no doubt as to who would have won if it had been a competition. Trevor’s guard was of the most rudimentary order, and O’Hara got through when and how he liked. But though he took a good deal, he also gave a good deal, and O’Hara confessed himself not altogether sorry when Moriarty called “Time”.
“Man,” he said regretfully, “why ever did ye not take up boxing before? Ye’d have made a splendid middle-weight.”
“Well, have I a chance, do you think?” inquired Trevor.