Adventures of Bobby Orde

by Anonymous

  XIX

  THE BOXING MATCH

  Early after breakfast next morning appeared Johnny.

  "I asked Papa about envelopes. He says he won't give us an order untilhe sees samples of the type and the work, but he says if we can do it aswell as the regular printer, he doesn't mind giving us an order for athousand. Here's one."

  The boys ascended at once to Bobby's room. Investigation of the fontsshowed that the firm possessed the proper type. Bobby set up the matterin the composing stick--and promptly pied it when he attempted to moveit to the chase. He had forgotten to put a lead in first, so there wasnothing to bind the top line. Redistribution and rectification of theerror were in order. It took a good half-hour to get the type properlyarranged in the chase. When single letters did not drop through from themiddle, the ends of the lines fell away, and then, try as they would,the boys were unable to lock the stickful in the chase. Either it wouldnot bind, or it warped out or in so that even without trial it could beseen that a clear impression was manifestly impossible. These and othermechanical difficulties occupied them until noon. Johnny was wild-eyedand nervous.

  "Why, we haven't even started to print!" he cried, "We'll never get ajob done at this rate! I don't believe the old press is any good,anyhow!"

  "Yes, it is," insisted Bobby doggedly. "We'll get it yet."

  He hardly finished his lunch, so eager was he to be back at the problem.Johnny did not come until after two o'clock, and then stood his hands inhis pockets, surveying his absorbed partner with some disgust.

  "Well," said he, "is the old thing working yet?"

  Bobby looked up absorbedly.

  "She's going to in just a second--you wait," he muttered.

  A moment later he lifted the locked form in triumph. It held togetherand it was flat. Immediately Johnny's nearly extinct enthusiasm flamedup.

  "Stick her in!" he cried. "Come on, we can show Papa a sample to-night.How many an hour do you suppose we can print on her, Bobby?"

  "I don't know," replied Bobby.

  They inserted the form, slipped a blank envelope in the corner and wereready for the first trial.

  "It won't be even on the paper," said Bobby, "but we can fix thatlater."

  He pulled down and back the long lever and the two heads bumped togetherover the result. One side of the legend was very heavy and black andclear, but the other was almost invisible.

  "Oh, snakes!" cried Johnny in disappointment.

  "Oh, that's all right," reasoned Bobby out of his experience with thetoy press. "All it needs is paper underneath."

  But paper underneath proved inadequate. It was impossible with paper toestablish the nice gradation necessary to equalize the pressure. Andthen, also, too much paper made too deep an impression.

  At the failure of this tried expedient even Bobby's patience ran shortfor the time being.

  "Come on over to my house," suggested Johnny crossly. "The crowd'scoming. I got boxing gloves for Christmas too, but I bet they're no goodeither. I bet they rip first thing."

  Sore at heart and in glum silence the two marched around the corner tothe Englishes'.

  Here already in the cold third story were Grace Jones and Martin Drake,skipping about in a game of hop-scotch to keep warm. Shortly May andCarter arrived together and Caroline ascended from her own room whereshe had been sewing. At sight of the boxing gloves May and Morton set upa shout.

  "Nope," vetoed Johnny, "Bobby and I are going to try them first!"

  The youngsters were at first a little awkward with the unusual-sizedfists, but soon forgot a detail as trivial as that. Neither knew thefirst principles of hitting. Round-arm blows with the head lowered werefirst choice, of which a good ninety per cent. went wild. The other tennaturally had little force, but there was a great deal of action. Inthis game Bobby stood no disadvantage with Johnny. After the first fewseconds, finding himself, to his surprise, still unhurt, he sailed inwith some confidence. Accidently Johnny ran square against his extendedfist. It jarred Johnny considerably, and made that youth exceedinglyeager to get even. Shortly he succeeded. The pair warmed up. Affairsbegan to get serious. In a brisk though wild rally they clinched, and ina moment were rolling over and over on the floor, pummelling vigorously.

  But immediately Carter jerked them apart.

  "Here, that's no way to box. Keep your feet. Here, May, give us a littlehelp."

  They pulled the contestants to their feet. Johnny and Bobby were verymussed up and dusty. Johnny's nose was bleeding slightly; Bobby's eyewas a trifle swelled. The instant their captors released them, they wentat it again, hammer and tongs. They were certainly not angry as enemiesare angry, but as certainly for the time being, in the sense that eachwas grimly resolved on victory, they had ceased to be friends.

  How long the combat might have lasted it would be impossible to say.Bobby had never before used his fists, while the aggressive Johnny, atpublic school, was the hero of many fights. But as long as Carterinsisted on no rough-and-tumble this fact gave the elder boy littleadvantage. The damage that two light-weights can inflict on each otherwith round-arm blows is inconsiderable, and Bobby was of the sort thatpunishment merely renders obstinate. Probably sheer lack of breath wouldin time have called the battle a draw, but all at once Bobby had anidea. So illuminating and sudden was it that for an instant he forgotwhat he was doing. Johnny closed on him like a tiger beating him withboth fists as hard as he could hit. Even then Bobby's thought was not ofdefence but of explanation.

  "Hold on! hold on! quit!" he kept on crying in expostulation. "Wait aminute! I got it!"

  It is doubtful if Johnny heard him. Before Carter and May could stop himhe had inflicted more damage than the rest of the fight had produced.Bobby's nose too was bleeding, and a huge red bump was swelling on hisforehead when finally he was freed.

  However, he was not even aware of those trifles.

  "Don't you know those two screws--" he began eagerly to Johnny.

  But that young gentleman, panting, was not yet emerged from the red hazeof combat.

  "I licked!" he cried. "Didn't I lick? He quit! He hollered 'nuff, didn'the? I licked the stuffing out of him!"

  "O shut up!" said May contemptuously; "or I'll lick the stuffing out ofyou."

  Bobby, practically oblivious to the meaning of this exchange, hadstripped off his gloves and had advanced, eager to finish hisexplanation.

  "Johnny, I just thought!" said he. "You remember those two thumb screwsunder the platen? I bet you if you turn those, they'll regulate thepressure. Let's go over and try it!"

  Johnny looked at Bobby uncertainly. He drew a deep breath, then hisround, cheerful grin broke over his face.

  "I guess I didn't lick you after all, old socks," said he. "I don't knowwhat you're talking about. Go on try your old press. I'm sick of her."

  Bobby washed his bruised face and went home. Sure enough, the thumbscrews did regulate the pressure. Within a half-hour he was back at theEnglishes'. The boxing gloves were still in commission. Morton wasdancing around and around May, slapping her with his open glove first onone side the face, then on the other. The girl, in spite of herstrength, agility and superior age was as awkward as are most girls athitting with their fists. She made short angry rushes at the dodgingMorton who slipped easily in and out of her guard. He was getting evenfor a long tyranny. Finally May stopped short and stamped her foot withvexation. Her face was very red and she actually had tears in her eyes.

  "Oh!" she cried. "You wait 'till I get hold of you, you miserable littlething!"

  At that the boxing ended. Bobby drew Johnny one side. "Look there!" saidhe with pardonable pride. "Show that to your papa. I bet he can't tellit from the regular printers. Look out; it's wet yet."

  Johnny gazed with awe on the perfect production. The next instant allhis dead enthusiasm leaped to life.

  "I bet we can print the whole thousand in one morning!" he criedgleefully, "And then there's the letter-heads, and bill-heads and May'scards--and perhaps your father and Carter's
will give us jobs--and--"

  They clattered down the stairs to the tune of Johnny's businessexpansions.