Роберт Фиш - Rough Diamond

“What’s this about Barney fighting a man over twice his size?” she demanded.

Harry shrugged apologetically. It was difficult for him to give a proper explanation when he agreed with the girl completely. “It’s his decision,” he said weakly. “If you know Barney…” He left the balance of the statement unfinished as being understood.

“But he’ll be hurt!”

“Maybe not. Barney’s pretty good.” Since wagering their entire bank account of over four thousand pounds at exceedingly high odds, Harry had forced himself to try to believe that Barney might have a chance of winning. Any other consideration was simply too terrible to contemplate.

“Well,” Fay said suddenly. “I’m going to the fight.”

“You can’t!” Harry was scandalized and tried to explain. “Fay, women don’t go to fights. A lot of the men there — most of the men, most probably — will be drunk, and there are usually more fights in the audience than there are in the ring. It could be dangerous for you to go, and Barney would be dead set against it.”

“Barney doesn’t need to know,” Fay said stubbornly.

Harry tried to get the girl to be realistic. “How would he not know? The only woman at a fight! Men would be around you like flies, and Barney would be out in the crowd pounding someone!” Another thought came, a horrible thought. “Or else it would take Barney’s mind from the fight, and that’s the last thing we need!”

“Barney won’t know. Nobody will know. I’ll go dressed as a man.”

Harry looked at the girl as if she were mad. “You wouldn’t fool anyone for an instant! After all…” He let the words trail to silence. Fay had developed into quite a full-busted woman. Harry changed the subject. “Anyway, how would you get there?”

“With you.”

“But I’m going with Barney!”

“Let Barney go with someone else. I’m going with you .”

Fay turned to go, marching from the shop, her mind made up. Behind her she left Harry almost tearing his hair. Of course he could plead some last-minute excuse to Barney, some sudden business that would hold him at the shop that would not allow him to get to the fight early; but he had to get there in time to be in Barney’s corner. Barney could go with Solly and Jack, but they couldn’t second him. They had no experience. And just how would he be able to get Fay home afterward without Barney’s knowing? Damn! Well, he still had until Sunday to discover a means of doing everything. He just wished the bloody circus had never come to town.

As she walked home, Fay pictured the steps she would have to take to handle her disguise. A pair of her father’s old corduroys would do for trousers; although she would have liked to cut them to fit, she knew they could not afford the wasting of a pair of pants that could be used. Still, by tucking them into a pair of his boots, she could get away with it. The boots would be large and uncomfortable, but that was better than having to wear a pair that were too small. A slouch hat, her father’s, the one he had worn on the trek, would be fine to hide her hair, done up in a tight bun. She could band her full breasts tightly, and a decent-sized shirt and jacket would properly complete the disguise. She could get away with it, she was sure. Of course there was always the chance she might be recognized as a woman, but it was a chance she was more than willing to take. If Barney might be hurt, she wanted to be there.

As she trudged back to Bultfontein she tried to analyze just why, suddenly, she was having this extraordinary concern as to Barney’s safety. He had always been self-reliant, self-confident, the most self-confident person she had ever known. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be hurt, and it was being afraid for him on that score that surprised her. They had known each other, now, for more than four years, and in all the many times they had seen each other — times she realized a bit sadly that had been growing more and more infrequent — in all the times they had gone on picnics, walked and talked, Barney had never said or done anything to indicate he might want her to commit herself to anything. True, once he had bent to kiss one of her hands, but that had been after staying away from her for six months, and she had practically forced him to that action as a compensation for his previous neglect. No, in all the time she had known him he had never made the slightest move to indicate she could mean any more to him than as a friend. Of course, to be perfectly honest with herself, she had to admit that Barney had once said something about love, and she had been the one to turn the subject to friendship, but that had been a long time ago when they were both very young. Why hadn’t he ever said anything about it since? Obviously because friendship was what he wanted, all he had ever really wanted. There were men who, she suspected, while fearing little else had a deadly fear of love. Barney must have been relieved the subject had never been raised again.

Well, Fay thought defiantly as she marched steadily along, maybe we’ll have to do something about that. If the fool doesn’t get himself killed in that stupid fight of his!

Dr. Josiah Mathews, one of the more respected members of the Kimberley community, had agreed to act as ringmaster for the boxing match for several reasons. One, he was a man whose probity would never be doubted by the crowd, no matter how partisan; and secondly, the doctor had a strong feeling his medical accomplishments might well be required by young Mr. Isaacs. Dr. Mathews had requested Charles Rudd, as a man with some prior boxing experience, to act as referee. Mr. Rudd’s partner had declined to even attend the match for several reasons: while Cecil John Rhodes would have enjoyed witnessing the almost assured defeat of the Jew, Barney Isaacs — for he had heard some time before that Isaacs had had the temerity to name his horse Rhodes — there was the possibility, almost the assurance, that blood would be spilled, and even though it would be the blood of the Jew, Cecil John Rhodes had no desire to get sick before a crowd that included many of his friends.

The area at the foot of Eagle’s Nest — the “nest” itself was a kopje a mere fifteen feet higher than the surrounding territory, but it served as a sort of stadium allowing the spectators to look down at the ring — had been pounded flat and the ring posts well set in the hard soil. The circus worker assigned to string the ropes finished putting the final one in place; he crawled beneath the bottom rope, came to his feet, and launched himself against the triple strands, bouncing back satisfactorily. He nodded to the waiting Dr. Mathews and climbed from the ring. Dr. Mathews, in turn, nodded to the waiting contestants, who stepped through the ropes and took the corners assigned to them by the good doctor, who had been standing in the middle of the ring watching the ropes being put in place. The doctor, satisfied his charges were in place, turned to face the growing crowd.

“Gentlemen!” he cried, raising his voice to be heard. He waited patiently as the noise slowly abated. In their corners Barney and the Angolan Giant eyed each other with no expression at all. Each was stripped to the waist and was wearing rubber-soled running shoes and boxing trunks. He’s really a big ’un! Barney was thinking, and no mistake! Hits me once, good-bye, Charlie! But he’s probably slower than treacle in January. And that belly of his looks like he likes his grub more than anythin’ else! A couple there ought to make him know he didn’t come here for no maypole dance! Across from him the huge Angolan stared at him, wondering at the nerve of a little man like that climbing into the ring against him. Ah, well, he thought, it’s all in a day’s work — or a few minutes’ work, rather, and it’s a living.