Роберт Фиш - Rough Diamond

“You?” Harry stared across the table. “You’ve been out in the sun too much! Among other things, I saw the man they call the Man Mountain at the Queen’s this noon, and that’s just what he is. He’s roughly — not roughly, more than — twice as big as you are. And he has to weigh a good ten stone more than you. His fist is bigger than your head, and that’s even when your head is swelled, like now.”

“All the better, his size. I figured on him being twice me size.”

Harry shook his head. “What do you mean, all the better? And did you figure on a trip to the hospital when you figured he was twice your size? Anyway,” Harry added, frowning, “how will your being battered to death by this monster make us rich?”

“I ain’t goin’ to be battered,” Barney said half angrily. “And we’re goin’ to get rich real simple.” He leaned forward again. “Harry, when they see the size o’ this bloke, and then they think o’ me — with me specs and me toff clothes — which I’ll wear this week” — Barney had automatically gone back to his East End accent in his excitement — “what odds you think any bloke in the street’ll give I don’t even walk out o’ the ring, but they gotta carry me?”

“Same odds I’d give,” Harry said coldly. “A hundred to one.”

“You see?” Barney shrugged happily. “There you are. I was thinkin’ you could get ten or twenty to one as easy as falling down the reef. If you can get more, all the better.”

Harry was staring at him almost in shock. “Are you serious?”

“O’ course I’m serious!”

“You honestly expect me to put our money on a dumb wager like that? Against a man who could break you in two with one finger?”

“He’s gotta get that one finger on me first,” Barney said confidently. “Look, Harry, you and me’s been sparrin’ almost every mornin’ just to keep in shape, ain’t we? And yer bigger and stronger than me, ain’t you? Well, how many times you been able to floor me?”

“Enough times,” Harry said evenly. “And I’m not this Angolan monster. He floors you once, you’ll probably never get up. And I haven’t the slightest intention of chancing — not even chancing, losing — our money on a proposition like that!”

He started to rise to indicate the conversation was over as far as he was concerned. Barney reached over and pushed him back into his chair. His blue eyes were icy.

“Harry,” he said quietly, “I don’t want to say nothin’, and you and me’s been partners share and share alike since I got here, and that’s the way I always wanted it to be; but yer forcin’ me to remind you who put in ninety per cent o’ the money in that bank account. Yer screw at yer job’d just about feed you, and we both know it. Now, I say ninety per cent of the money in that bank is mine, and we both know it; but if you want to split the brass fifty-fifty right down the middle and go yer way, writin’ an end to Barnato Brothers, all you gotta do is say so, and we’ll go down to the bank tomorrow mornin’ and settle it. And I’ll have one o’ the boys set up the bets with me share o’ the money, or I’ll do it meself.” He leaned over the table. “But I’ll tell you this: I can take that cove! I ain’t never seen him, but I seen big guys before, and I don’t care how big he is. The bigger the better. Them big guys can’t hardly lift their arms, and they’re so slow I could have a cuppa while they’re standin’ up.”

Harry was listening, white-faced. Barney wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and went on.

“And I’ll tell you somethin’ else, too. I ain’t goin’ to be no kopje walloper all me bloody life! I’m goin’ to be a dealer, a trader, and I need more money to do that proper than I can get bummin’ me way from sortin’ shed to sortin’ shed every bloody day o’ me life, practically beggin’ to be given a bone, like some pariah dog! And I want some decent claims, in the center o’ the bloody mine, not under the bloody reef where you gotta keep lookin’ up every five minutes to see if half the edge is goin’ to fall in on you! And where yer lucky to pick up wages for all the work that goes into the bloody business!”

He almost sneered at his silent brother across the table.

“Yer worried about yer bloody money! So’s you can go home and get married, with just enough brass to set yerself up in some shack in the East End and raise kids and end up like Pa or old man Feldman, wonderin’ how yer goin’ to feed them! Yer so bloody thick you can’t see this is a real chance to go home in style and open a office there to sell the stones direct that I can buy here in Kimberley as a dealer. It would be a branch office of Barnato Brothers, because that’s what we’d call it.” There was a missionary’s zeal in his voice; then it disappeared as he stared at his brother. “But you can’t see it. That’s how bloody thick you are.” He came to his feet. “Well, make up yer mind. In or out. Me half o’ the four thousand quid goes, anyway. But it’s in or out for you, and for keeps.”

He waited while Harry took a deep breath. He had never seen Barney like that; it was as if he had taken a dressing-down from his father. He swallowed and, mentally asking forgiveness of his girl in London, he said, quietly, “In.”

“Good,” Barney said expressionlessly, and looked at the clock over the bar. “Well, you can start figuring out the best way to push the odds up as high as you can. I’m on my way to the Queen’s Hotel to give that big man of yours a challenge.”

His accent had disappeared as quickly as it had come.

The word of the fight swept the town, from word of mouth, mostly with delighted grins on faces — since it had to be assumed that little Barney Isaacs would simply try to clown his way through the fight and thus gain admirers for his nerve or future customers for his walloping, since he had no chance of winning — to articles in both J. B. Robinson’s Independent and the more established Diamond News . The Independent , in line with its owner’s racial prejudices, treated the matter as a joke, and exhibited a cartoon showing a big-nosed David opposing a handsome Goliath, with the exception that Goliath, calmly picking his teeth, was pictured with one large foot on the neck of a sprawling, squalling David. The Diamond News , in its more staid fashion, reported the coming fistic bout as a straight news item. It mentioned the fight as bringing together a well-known personality of Kimberley, known in the past for his performances at the Paris Hotel; and a visiting circus performer. It mentioned that interest in the fight was running exceptionally high, stated that since the Miner’s Committee frowned on fighting for money in the town, the fight would not take place at the circus but at the Eagle’s Nest, six miles out of town. (It did not mention that the circus owner had pleaded with the committee for hours, and in the end had wanted to drop the fight altogether, except for the inordinate interest the town had seemed to take in it.) The article continued by stating that the wagering on the outcome of the fight seemed to overwhelmingly favor the circus performer. The circus performer, the article further mentioned, was also the strong man in the circus, and had had over thirty bouts in the previous six months, winning them all quite easily. The article then concluded the man’s success was undoubtedly due to his size and weight, which they gave.

Fay, reading the article, was angry. She reached for her shawl, said, “Pa, I’ll be right back,” and hurried from the tent, leaving her father, as always, talking softly to himself. She walked as quickly as she could the two miles from Bultfontein to the Harris shop in the central portion of Kimberley, glanced in and saw that Harry Isaacs was busy, and waited impatiently until he was free. Then she hurried inside.