CHAPTER X GWEN MEETS A "HAY MAKER"
Johnny Thompson did not relish giving boxing lessons. Like all trueartists, he was more interested in doing things than in teaching othershow to do them. Especially did he dislike giving lessons to women.
Johnny had his particular ideas about the possible skill of lady boxersand his estimate was not flattering. However, he was willing to teachGwen because he liked her, thought of her as a good sport, and hoped toprofit by his acquaintance with her. He was destined to find her rather asurprise as a boxer.
Exactly at nine o'clock next morning he was on hand in the small sawdustcircle at a remote corner of the "big top." Gwen was only three minuteslate and Johnny put that down as being much to her credit. "Most girlswould have been fifteen minutes or half an hour behind time," was hismental comment.
After a formal "Good morning," Johnny helped Gwen on with her gloves.This gave him an opportunity to look her over. Naturally her handsreceived his first attention. He looked for rings; found none, and thenlaughed at himself for believing that any person would come for a boxinglesson with rings on her fingers.
Looking her up and down from head to toe, he found her good to theeye--even better than in her professional costume. She was all of a girlnow. In her short skirt, blue middie and silk stockings and with her massof hair drawn tightly into form beneath a strong net, she made a pictureworth looking at. Johnny found himself catching his breath sharply as hedrew on her gloves and laced them snugly about her wrists.
"You won't strike hard--not at first, anyway--will you?" she breathed.
"Not at all," Johnny smiled, "but you'll have to be careful about onething; practice calls for boxing that is as near the real thing aspossible. I mean that I'll seem to be going to deal you a real knock-outblow, but I'll 'pull the blow,' as they say, just before it lands, so itwill be a mere tap. The thing you'll have to be a little careful about isrunning into those 'hay makers,' otherwise they may prove to be the realthing in spite of all I can do to avoid it."
"I'll try," Gwen smiled back. "Are you ready?" She tapped him playfullyon the nose.
"Ready!" Johnny squared away.
From the start, Gwen's boxing was a baffling mystery to the boy. Sheseemed to fairly dance on air. Her foot movements were marvelous. Now shewas here; now there; now in another corner of the ring. Johnny had beencalled the fastest boy of the ring, but Gwen was faster. For some time hedid not reach her even with a light tap.
But time taught him new tricks and brought back to his mind manyhalf-forgotten old ones. He began to realize that, although her faceprotection was perfect, she was exposing her chest.
"That's where her lesson begins," he told himself, and at once begantapping her over the heart with ever increasing force until she threwdown her hands with a sharp, "Oh-wee!"
"Time's up," laughed Johnny, throwing himself down upon the mat andinviting her to do the same.
"You see," he explained, when they had caught their breath, "you box theway you do your tight rope work. It's great stuff. I never saw a ladyboxer your equal."
Gwen gave him a happy smile.
"But," he went on, "you've got your weak points, just as the rest of ushave. You play your defense too high. That leaves your chest unguarded.If you were in a real fight your opponent would deal you a knock-out blowover the heart. You'll have to practice playing closer to the sawdustwith both your hands and your feet. It's that tight rope stuff that doesit. You box as if you were tiptoeing along the rope and holding up thatJapanese parasol to balance you."
Gwen thanked him for his advice, then, as all good friends occasionallydo, they lapsed into silence.
"Second round," said Johnny, two minutes later as he pocketed his watch.
To Johnny this tight rope dancer seemed an amazingly alert pupil. It wasno time at all before he found her guard lowered and her hands travelingso fast that only now and again was he able to score a point. To hisgreat surprise, he found himself thoroughly enjoying the third round. Notonly was he teaching her something about guarding and self-control, butshe was giving him pointers in speed and foot work.
"You're great!" he breathed at the end of the third round. "You reallyare."
Flushed, highly excited, filled with a girlish enthusiasm, she beamedback at him. The affair was a huge success; there could be no doubt ofthat. Johnny saw himself safely possessed of an entirely agreeable pal,one of the very elect, of the inner circle of star performers, too. Hesaw himself frolicking with this wonderful pal day after day. A fineday-dream!
And just there something happened, as often is the case when one's cup ofhappiness is about to overflow. In the fourth round Gwen, excited byJohnny's praise, strove to out-do herself. Before she had not been halfso airy nor so nimble and skillful in eluding her opponent's blows. Thuschallenged, Johnny brought into play his every tactic. Maneuvers whichhad lain dormant in his brain leaped to the forefront. It was as if hewere again in a real battle in a real ring. Like live things, his glovesflashed. He leaped to the right, then to the left, then backward. Hedarted suddenly forward. He ducked. He leaped high. But ever the elusiveGwen escaped him.
At last, in one mad rush he found himself facing her. Her round chin wasexposed. What an opportunity! He lifted himself clean off the floor; hisright hand struck out and up. It would have brushed her chin--anadmirably "pulled" blow--had she not at this instant leaped suddenly athim. Whether she thought she saw an opening and had herself resolved toscore, or had, in the mad rush, completely lost her head, Johnny couldnot tell. He only knew that there came a sickening sound of impact,followed by a dull thud and Gwen lay crumpled, unconscious at his feet.His blow had found its mark. The full force of it had been expended onthe girl's chin!
Heartsick, he struggled to regain his scattered senses. The next instanthe was rushing away for water. From a bucket he dipped it ice cold, andapplied it to her forehead. Then with a towel he began to fan her.
All the time reflections were rushing through his troubled brain: "What afool! Just when things were going right! All off now! Mighty funny how ithappened! All my fault! Mebby hers, too! But a girl--what a wallop togive a girl! Who'd forgive it? Boss'd fire me if he knew it. What a muss!Go back to the bear if I get a chance. Bear's about my class. What a nuta fellow can make of himself! I--why dum it anyway--"
His dismal reflections were arrested by the opening of Gwen's eyes. Shesat up dizzily and gazed about her as if looking upon a world unknown.
"Where am I?" she faltered. "Oh!" she moaned, and held her head.
Johnny's thoughts touched the bottom of despair.
But the next moment she was looking at him and actually smiling. "Isuppo-pose," she said uncertainly, "that you'd call--call that a'hay--hay maker'?"
Johnny grinned in spite of himself. "It was," he agreed.
"And I--I ran into your 'hay maker.'"
"Something like that," Johnny agreed, sitting down beside her. "I hopeyou feel better."
She did not answer, but sat staring at the sawdust. They remained in justthat position until Johnny's watch had ticked off a hundred and twentyseconds. He knew it was a hundred and twenty for he counted them all.
"I suppose," he said, when he could endure the silence no longer, "thatthat's the end of it?"
"I suppose so," she agreed.
Again they were silent. There seemed nothing more to say.
"And I thought we would have some grand times together," said Johnny, atlast. "I might have known though--"
"Oh! But aren't we?" There was a puzzled look on her face.
"Why! You--you said that was the end of it!"
"I suppose so for today. I'm really too shaky to box any more to-day. Buthow about to-morrow?"
With a wild shout of joy, Johnny leaped to his feet.
"Then--then--," he stammered. "Why, you're a brick!"
He extended his hand and helped her to her feet.
"Why? What's so wonderful?" she smiled at him. "I r
an into you and gotbumped. I don't hold that against you. Why should I? Would another boyhate you for it?"
"No. He might not, but a girl--"
"Fiddle! Girls are just like boys, if you let them be. Shall I see youto-morrow?"
"You sure will!"
For a moment Johnny hesitated before taking her hand for a farewell; thequestion of the diamond ring had flashed through his mind. Was this thetime to ask? He hesitated; then gave it up. A moment before he had feltthat he had lost her. He would risk nothing more this day.
"Good-bye and good luck," he murmured, as she turned to go her way.