Judith of Blue Lake Ranch

by Jackson Gregory

  XXX

  THE FIGHT

  Bayne Trevors slipped out of his coat and vest, tossing them to thepile of chairs on the table. He loosened his soft shirt-collar and wasready. All of Bud Lee's simple preparations had been made when hethrew his broad hat aside.

  Then came the little pause which is forerunner to the first blow, whentwo men measure each other, seeking each to read the other's purpose.

  "It ought to be a pretty even break," muttered Melvin, his interestobviously that of a sporting man who would travel a thousand miles tosee a fight for a champion's belt. "Trevors has the weight by fortypounds; Lee has the reach by a hair; both quick-footed; both hard; Lee,maybe a little harder. Don't know. Even break. The sand will doit--sand or luck."

  The two men drew slowly together. Their hands came up, their fistsshowed glistening knuckles, their jaws were set, their feet movedcautiously. Then suddenly Bud Lee sprang in and struck.

  Struck tentatively with his left hand that grazed Trevors's cheek anddid no harm; struck terribly with his right hand that drove through theother man's guard and landed with the little sound of flesh on flesh onTrevors's chest. Trevors's grunt and his return blow came together;both men reeled back a half-pace from the impact, both hung an instantupon an unsteady balance, both sprang forward. And as they met thesecond time, they battled furiously, clinging together, strikingmercilessly, giving and taking with only the sound of scuffingboot-heels and soft thuds and little coughing grunts breaking thesilence. Bayne Trevors gave back a stubborn step, striking right andleft as he did so; caught himself, hurled himself forward so that nowit was Bud Lee who was borne backward by the sheer weight of hisopponent. There was a gash on Lee's temple from which a thin stream ofblood trickled; Trevors's mouth was bleeding.

  "Under his guard, Trevors!" shouted Melvin, on the table now, his facered, his eyes shining. "Under, under!"

  "Remember, Bud! Remember!" cried Carson.

  "That's it, that's it!" Melvin clapped his two big hands and cameperilously near falling from his point of vantage as Trevors's fistsdrove into Lee's body and Lee went reeling back. "Give him hell! Ahundred dollars on Trevors!"

  "Take you!" called Carson without withdrawing his eyes from the twoforms reeling up and down, back and forth across the room.

  "Done!" cried Melvin. "Trevors, a hundred dollars----"

  He broke off, forgetful of his own words. The two men met again, clungto each other in a ludicrous embrace, broke asunder, and Lee struck sothat his fist, landing fair upon Trevors's chin, hurled the bigger manback, stumbling, falling----

  But not fallen. For his back found the wall and saved him. As Leecame on, rushing at him like a man gone mad, Trevors slipped aside andstruck back, for the critical moment gaining time to breathe. He spat,wiped his bloody mouth with the back of his hand and again eluded arushing attack by ducking and stepping to one side. And ever, when hesought to save his own body, he struck back, grunting audibly with theeffort.

  They fought everywhere, up and down, back and forth, until every footof the floor felt their heavy boots, until each of them was fightingwith all of the force that lay in him, fighting with that swellinganger which grows at leaps and bounds when two men strive body to body,when the hot breath of one mingles with the hot breath of the other,when red rage looking out of one pair of eyes sees its reflection inthe other. Again and again Melvin muttered: "An even break! By God,an even break!" And over and over did Carson's heart rise in hisbreast as he saw Bud Lee drive Trevors, and over and over did his heartsink when he saw Lee sway and reel under the sledge-hammer blowsbeating at face and body.

  In the beginning there had been in Bud Lee's mind but the one thought:This man had laid his hands upon Judith; this man must be punished andpunished by none other in God's wide world than Bud Lee. Now all coolthought had fled, leaving just the hot desire to beat at that whichbeat at him, to strike down that which strove to strike him down, tomaster his enemy, to see the great, powerful body prone at his feet.Now he was fighting for that simplest, most potent reason in the world,just because he was fighting. And, though he knew that he had found aman as quick and hard and strong as himself, still he told himself,that he must fight a winning fight--there was some good reason why hemust fight a winning fight.

  His whole body was bruised and battered and sore. A glancing blow nowshot him through with pain. Trevors knew how to put his weight behindhis blows, and his weight was well over two hundred pounds. It waslike being hammered with a two-hundred-pound sledge.

  Give and take it was from the first blow, with none of the finesse of aboxers' match, with less thought of escaping punishment than ofinflicting it. More than once had Bud Lee felt that he was fallingonly to catch his balance and come back at Trevors; more than once hadTrevors gone reeling backward, smashing into the wall. Many a time didMelvin count his money won and lost. And Carson, crouching now, tense,eager, a little fearful, muttered constantly to himself.

  "They've both got the sand!" grunted Melvin. "Which one draws theluck?"

  But luck stood by and did not enter into the battle that grew everhotter as Bud Lee's and Trevors's gorge rose higher at every blow. Itwas to be simply the best man wins, and none of the six men who watchedknew from the beginning until the end who the best man was. Whattricks Trevors knew, he used, and they were met by what cunning lay inBud Lee; what strength, what resistance, what power to endure was eachpanting body was called upon to the reserve.

  Already the spring had gone out of their steps. They came at eachother for the most part more slowly, more cautiously, but moredetermined not to give over. Faces glistening with sweat, grimy withthe dust their pounding feet beat up from the floor, the roots of Lee'shair red where with a bloody hand he had pushed it back, Trevors's lipsswollen and ugly, they fought on until the men who looked at themwondered just where lay the limits upon which each depended.

  "Lee's tough," Carson whispered to himself. "Riding every day an'working . . . Trevors has been setting in a chair. . . . Bud'll wearhim out. . . . My God! Bud, look out! Foot work. . . ."

  Yes, foot work, but not as Carson expected it, not the thing Bud Leelooked for when he sensed rather than read in Trevors's eyes that afresh trick was coming. He was ready for a lifted boot, and, instead,Trevors, rushing down upon him, threw grappling arms about him,heedless of the fist smashing again into his cut lips. Trevors doubledand twisted and got a grip about Lee's middle, at him, seeking to throwhim.

  Down they went together with no particular advantage to either man.But as they rolled apart and Lee threw out an arm to lift himselfTrevors saw the chance he sought and mightily, brutally, cursing as hejumped up for it, he drove the heel of his boot down upon Lee's hand onthe floor.

  From Lee's white lips burst an involuntary groan as it seemed to himthat every bone in his hand had been crushed, from Carson a choking cryof rage, from Trevors a short laugh as he called out sharply:

  "Hands off, Carson! Our fight--any way----"

  Again on their feet, Trevors a second first and with the advantageclearly his now rushed Lee, seeking to finish what he had begun. AndBud Lee, his face white and drawn, looking ghastly with the bloodsmears across it, moving swiftly but not swiftly enough, went down,Trevors's weight against him, Trevors's fist beating into his side justbelow the arm-pit.

  "Five hundred on Trevors!" shouted Melvin. Carson did not hear him.

  "At him, Bud, go at him!" he was crying over and over. "That's thelast dirty trick he's got. Get him, Buddie. Oh, for Gawd's sake,Buddie, go get him!"

  Trevors was upon him again, but Lee slipped aside, even rolled over,managed to get to his feet. Again Trevors bore down upon him, a newleaping fire in his eyes. Again, though barely in time, Bud Leeslipped away from him. He drew Trevors's harsh laugh after him andTrevors's questing, eager fists. Lee put up his arm, his right arm,guarding his face, and drew away, back and back. Carson was almostwhimpering, calling whiningly:

  "Stand up to him, Bud
! Oh, go get him, Buddie!"

  Still up and down the room they went, Trevors rushing at Lee, Leetaking what blows he must, striking out but little, seeking now only topull himself together, to get his head clear of daze and dizziness.Stepping backward, he again got the wall at his shoulders, slipped toone side, strove only to get the empty room behind him, succeeded andlet Trevors drive him, drive until again his back was to a wall.

  "Run away, will you?" panted Trevors. "I've got you, damn you. Gotyou right."

  Lee didn't answer. He was thinking dully that Bayne Trevors was neartelling the truth, that Bud Lee was almost beaten--almost. That was asfar as a gentleman ever went--just to that desperate "almost beaten."Not quite. No! not quite. Never that.

  Both men were nearly spent; Carson saw that while he cursed softly inhis corner; Melvin saw it and watched for the end, wondering just howit would come. Trevors should swing for the point of the jaw, put allthat was in him into a final, smashing blow, beat through aninsufficient guard, do it now, quickly. For both Carson and Melvin sawanother thing, a thing which both had sensed at the outset: Bud Lee washarder than Bayne Trevors. Lee, slipping away at every step wasgetting something back which had nearly gone from him; Trevors wasbreathing in noisy jerks; save for the vital fact that he now had twohands to Bud Lee's one, Trevors was showing more signs of wearinessthan Lee.

  "Bud'll get him--somehow," whispered Carson. "Good old Bud. Somehow."

  What Carson and Melvin sensed Trevors knew. He saw that Lee was havingless trouble in eluding him now, that Lee's feet were quicker, lighterthan his, that Lee was beginning to strike back viciously at him, andwhen the blow landed, Trevors's big body rocked, shot through withpain. There came to him the thought which was Melvin's, but it came inTrevors's way: Now, quickly, before Lee was ready for it, must come theend. So, for the third time that day Bayne Trevors, with much atstake, resorted to "what weapons God gave him, what weapons he couldlay his mind to, his eyes to, his hands to"--his feet to. Resorting tothe old trick which came up from South American ports in disreputablewindjammers, which is known to the San Francisco waterfront, he raiseda heavy boot, striking for Lee's stomach, seeking with one low,horrible blow to double up his already handicapped antagonist inwrithing pain on the floor.

  "An' I gave my word!" bellowed Carson, the sweat on his own torturedbrow. "Oh, my Gawd."

  But just that one brief instant too late did Bayne Trevors lift hisfoot. For Bud Lee had expected this, never had forgotten it, hadprayed within his soul that the man he fought would use it. Just bythat fraction of time which has no name was he quicker than Trevors,and he knew it. Now, as he read the sinister purpose in Trevors'sglaring eyes, as he glimpsed the raised boot as it left the floor, helowered his own head, averted it ever so little, stooped--and his handclosed like locked iron about the calf of Trevors's leg. A stifled cryfrom the bulkier man, a little grunt of effort from Lee, Lee straining,heaving mightily, and Trevors went back, toppled, fought for hisslipping balance, and fell. As he went down Lee was upon him, Lee'sarm about his neck, Lee's weight flung upon him, Lee holding his bodybetween a powerful pair of knees which rode him as they rode daily somestruggling Blue Lake colt.

  Now Bud's left arm, defying the agony of a broken hand, was around him,Lee's legs were about the frantically fighting body, and at last Lee'sright hand went its sure way to the thick, bared, pulsing throat.Trevors's right arm was caught at his side, held there by the body uponhis. His left hand beat at Lee's face, struck and battered again onlyto come back like a steam-driven piston to hammer again. But Bud Lee'spain-racked body clung on, his thumb and fingers sank and sank deeperinto the corded muscles of the heaving throat, crooked like talons,white and hard and relentless.

  Trevors's eyes were terrible, filled with hatred, red-flecked withrage. He sought, with a great sudden heave, to roll over. But hecould not shake off the legs which were like stubborn tentacles abouthim, could not free his throat of the tensing clutch. He tore at thewrist, smote again at Lee's head, set his own hand to Lee's throat. Inan instant his hand was back at the hand worrying him, but he wasunable to drag it away.

  His face went white, flamed red, grew purplish. His eyes bulged up atLee's, his deep chest contracted spasmodically. Lee, summoning theforce within him, drove thumb and fingers deeper.

  "Got enough?" he panted.

  For the last time Trevors strained with him and they rolled likedeath-locked mountain-lions. But still Lee's left arm was aboutTrevors's neck, his legs about the tossing body, his hand at Trevors'sthroat. Trevors's breath caught, failed him. . . .

  Then and then only did a new look come into the bulging eyes. A lookof more than fear, of utter, desperate terror. Trevors threw up hishand weakly, then let it fall so that it struck the floor heavily, adead weight.

  Lee's grip at the strangling throat relaxed. But he did not move hishand.

  "Got enough?" he panted again.

  The answer came brokenly, weakly, almost inarticulate. But it did comeand the men drawn close heard it:

  "Yes."

  "You'll get out of the country?"

  "Yes."

  Bud Lee drew back and rose, going to the door swiftly. He stooped forhis hat and passed out. And as Bayne Trevors got unsteadily to hisfeet and sank slumping into the chair offered him, two big tears formedin his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. The first tears in many ayear, the tears of a strong man broken for the first time in his life.

  "Sand did it!" grunted Melvin. "Just sand, Carson."

  "I'll stick aroun' an' see he moves on, Bud," Carson followed Lee tosay. "Oh, he'll go. But I'll just tell him how the boys is headedthis way by now an' it's tar an' feathers for him if he don't moseyright along. That's something he couldn't stand right now. An',Bud----"

  He put out his hand and locked Lee's in a grip that made the sorefingers wince. Then, swinging upon the heel of his boot, he went backto collect a hundred dollars from Melvin and help Bayne Trevors shapehis plans.

  But Bud Lee did not wait. He was on his horse, swaying a little, anarm caught in a rude sling, glad to be out in the late sunlight.

  "Fog along, little horse," he was saying dully. "Fog right along.She's waiting, little horse. Judith is waiting! Think of that.That's right--fog right along."