Shorty McCabe Page 6

  CHAPTER VI

  You didn't happen to see Pinckney at the last Horse Show, did you? Well,you'd never known him for the same ambulance fare that dropped into theStudio that day. He's been on the 'rock for two months now, and hisnerves are as steady as a truck horse. There's more meat on him, too,than there was. I don't have to have a dustpan ready, in case I shouldjolt him one.

  But say, next time any two-by-four chappy floats in here for a privatecourse, I gets plans and specifications before I takes him on. No moreRajah business in mine. See?

  There's another thing, too. I'm thinkin' of hirin' a husky boy with aclub to do the turnkey act for me. Or maybe I could get out aninjunction against myself to keep me from leavin' home. What I need is alife sentence to stay in little old New York. It's the only place wherethings happen reg'lar and sensible. If you see rocks flyin' round in theair, or a new building doin' the hoochee-coochee an' sheddin' itscornices, or manhole covers poppin' off, you know just what'sup--nothing but a little stick dynamite handled careless, or somemislaid gas touched off by a plumber.

  But the minute I lets some one lead me across a ferry, or beyond theBronx, the event card is on the blink, and I'm a bunky-doodle boy.Long's I don't get more'n a mile from Forty-Second-st., I'm ProfessorMcCabe, and the cops pass me the time of day. Outside of that I'm astray, and anyone that gets the fit ties a can to me.

  It was my mix-up with that Blenmont aggregation that stirs me up.Pinckney was at the bottom of this, too. Course, I can't register anykick; for when it comes to doing the hair-trigger friendship act,Pinckney's the real skookum preferred. But this was once when he slippedme a blank.

  Looked like bein' fed with a spoon, too, at the start. All I had to dowas to take the one-thirty-six out to Blenmont, put in an hour withJarvis, catch the three-fifty back, and charge anything I had the frontto name. What's more, I kind of cottoned to Jarvis, from the drop of thehat.

  He was waitin' at the station for me, with a high-wheeled cart, and acouple of gingery circus horses hitched one in front of the other liketwo links of wienerwurst. They were tryin' to play leap-frog as thetrain comes in; but it didn't seem to worry Jarvis any more'n if he wasdrivin' a pair of mail-wagon plugs.

  One of those big pink-and-white chaps, Jarvis was, with nice blue eyesand ashes-of-roses hair. There was a lot of him, and it was wellplaced. He had sort of a soothing, easy way of talking, too, like achurch organ with the soft pedal on.

  Me and Jarvis got acquainted right away. He said he didn't care muchabout the physical-culture game--didn't exactly need it, and he'd beenthrough all that before, anyway--but, mother and sister wanted him totake it up again, and Pinckney'd told what a crackerjack I was; so hethought he might as well go in for it. He said he'd had a little holefixed up where one could do that sort of thing, y'know, and he hoped Iwouldn't find it such a beastly bore, after all.

  Oh, he was a gent, Mr. Jarvis. But what got me was the careless way hejuggled the reins over those two bob-tailed nags that was doin' aragtime runaway, and him usin' only three fingers, and touchin' 'em upwith the whip. It was his lucky day, though, and we got there without anambulance.

  It was somethin' of a place to get to, yes--about a hundred and 'steenrooms and bath, I should say, with a back yard that must have sloppedover into Connecticut some. That's what you get by havin' a grandpop whoput his thumb-print on every dollar that came his way.

  I guess Jarvis was used to livin' in a place like that, though. Hedidn't stop to tell what anything cost, or show off any of thebric-a-brac. He just led the way through seven or eight parlors andpalm-rooms, until we fetched up in the hole he'd fixed up to exercisein. It was about three times as big as the Studio here, and if there wasanything missing from the outfit I couldn't have told what itwas--flyin'-rings, bars, rowin'-machine, punchin'-bags, dumb-bells--say!with a secretary and a few wall mottos, there was the makin's of aY. M. C. A. branch right on the ground. Then there was dressin'-rooms,a shower bath, and a tiled plunge tank like they have in these Turkishplaces.

  "Lucky you don't go in strong for exercise," says I. "If you did, Is'pose you'd fix up Madison Square Garden?"

  "That architect was an ass," says Jarvis; "but mother told him to goahead. Fancy he thought I was a Sandow, you know."

  Well, we gets into our gym. clothes, picks out a set of kid pillows, andhad just stepped out on the rubber for a little warmin' up, when insails a fluff delegation. There was a fat old one, that looked as thoughshe might be mother; a slim baby-eyed one, that any piker would haveplayed for sister; and another, that I couldn't place at all. She wasn'ta Fifth-ave. girl--you could tell that by the way she wore her hairbunched down on the nape of her neck--but it was a cinch she wasn't anypoor relation.

  Mother, sister, and Lady Evelyn.]

  "Lost their way goin' to the matinee, eh?" says I.

  Jarvis, he gets pink clear down to his collarbone. "I beg pardon,professor," says he. "It's only mother and the girls. I'll send themoff."

  "That's right; shoo 'em," says I.

  But mother wouldn't shoo any more'n a trolley-car. "Now, don't be sillyabout it, Jarvis, dear," says she. "You know how Lady Evelyn dotes onathletics, and how your sister and I do, too. So we're just going tostay and watch you."

  "Oh, come, mother," says Jarvis; "it isn't just the thing, you know."

  "Ask Lady Evelyn," says mother. "Why, she's one of the patronesses ofthe Oldwich Cricket Club, and pours tea for the young men at theirgames. Now, go ahead, Jarvis; there's a dear."

  He looks at me for a tip, and that gives him a hunch. "But theprofessor--" says he.

  "Oh, Professor McCabe doesn't mind us a bit; do you now, professor?"says sister, buttin' in, real coy and giddy.

  "I can stand it if you can," says I, and she tips me a goo-goo smilethat was all to the candied violets.

  "There!" says the mother. "Now go right on as though we were not hereat all. But remember not to be too rough, Jarvis, dear."

  I grins at that, and Jarvis dear looks foolisher than ever. But theladies had settled themselves in front seats, and there didn't seem tobe anything to do but to play marbles or quit an' go home. And say, Idon't know which looked more like a stage-hand caught in front of thedrop, Jarvis or me. We went through some kind of motions, though, untilI begins to get over bein' rattled. Then I tries to brace him up.

  "Little faster with that right counter there," says I. "And block morewith your elbow. Ah, you're wide open--see?" and I taps him once ortwice. "Now look out for this left lead to the face. Come, use thatright a little. 'Tain't in a sling, is it? Foot-work, now. You side-steplike a truck-horse. There, that's the article. Now let 'em come--block,counter, guard!"

  You see, I was doin' my best to work up a little excitement and getJarvis to forget the audience; but it wasn't much use. About all we didwas to walk around and pat each other like a pair of kittens. There'dbeen as much exercise in passin' the plate at church.

  Mother thought it was lovely, though, and sister had that gushy look inher eyes that her kind wears after they've been to see Maude Adams.Lady Evelyn, though, didn't seem to be struck silly by our performance.She acted as though someone had been tryin' to sell her a gold brick.Her nose was up in the air, and she'd turned a shoulder to us, like shewas wonderin' how long it would be before the next act was put on.Couldn't blame her, either. That was the weakest imitation of a sparrin'bout I ever stood up in.

  But there was no stirrin' Jarvis. He'd got stage-fright, or cold feet,or something of the kind. It wa'n't that he didn't know how, for he hadall the tags of a good amateur about his moves; but somehow he'd beenqueered. So, as soon as we can, we quits. Then sister gets her chance togush. She rushes to the front and turns the baby stare on me like I wasall the goods.

  "Oh, it was just too sweet for anything!" says she. "Do you know,professor, I've always wanted to see a real boxing-match; but Jarviswould never let me before. He's told me horrid stories about how brutalthey were. Now I know they're nothing of the sort. I shall come everytime you and Jarvi
s have one, and so will Lady Evelyn. You didn't thinkit was brutal, did you, Evelyn?"

  Lady Evelyn humped her eyebrows and gave me one look. "No," says she, "Ishouldn't call it brutal, exactly," and then she swallows a polite,society snicker in a way that made me mad from the ground up. Jarvisdidn't lose any of that, either. I got a glimpse of him turnin'automobile red, and tryin' to choke himself with his tongue.

  "It's something like the wand drill we used to do at college," sayssister. "Don't you like the wand drill, professor?"

  "When it ain't done too rough, I'm dead stuck on it," says I.

  "I just knew you didn't like rough games," says she. "You don't look asthough you would, you know."

  "That's right," say I.

  "Jarvis says that once you knocked out three men in one evening; but I'msure you weren't rude about it," she gurgles.

  "And that's no pipe, either," says I. "I wouldn't be rude for money."

  "What is a knockout, anyway?" says she.

  "Why," says I, "it's just pushin' a feller around the platform untilhe's too dizzy to stand up."

  "What fun!" says sister.

  We makes a break for the dressin'-room about then, and the delegationclears out. On the way back to the station Jarvis apologizes sevendifferent ways, and ends up by givin' me the cue to the whole game.

  Seems that mother's steady job in life was to get him married off tosome one that suited her for a daughter-in-law. She'd been at it forfive or six years; but Jarvis had always blocked her moves, until LadyEvelyn shows up. I guessed that he'd picked her out himself, and wasgettin' along fine, when mother begins to mix in and arrange things.Evelyn shies at that, and commences to hand Jarvis the frapped smile.This little visit to the sparrin' exhibition the old lady had plannedfor Evelyn's special benefit.

  "But hang it all!" says Jarvis, "I couldn't stand up there and show off,like a Sunday-school boy spouting a piece. Made me feel like a sillyass, you know."

  "You looked the part," says I. "About one more of those stunts, and LadyEvelyn'll want to adopt the two of us."

  "No more," says he. "She must think I'm a milksop. Why, she's gotbrothers that are officers in the British army, fellows who getthemselves shot, and win medals, and all that sort of thing."

  Well, I was sorry for Jarvis; for the girl was a good looker, all right,and they'd have mated up fine. But I'm no _schatchen_. Physicalculture's my game, an' I ain't takin' on no marriage bureau as a sideline. So we shook hands and called it a canceled contract. Then Jarvisjerks those circus horses out of a bow-knot and rounds the corner on onewheel, while I climbs aboard the choo-choo cars and gets back nearBroadway.

  I wasn't lookin' to run across Jarvis again, seein' as how me and himhas our own particular sets; but 'twasn't more'n three days before heshows up at the Studio. He was lookin' down an' out, too.

  "Dropped in for a real rough game of pussy-wants-a-corner," says I, "orshall we make it ring-around-the-rosy?"

  "I say, now, Shorty," says he, "if you'd had it rubbed in as hard as Ihave, you'd let up."

  "Heard from Lady Evelyn?" says I.

  He kind of groaned and fell into a chair. "I tried to tell her aboutit," says he; "but she wouldn't listen to a word. She only asked if youwere a professor of dancing."

  "Hully chee!" says I. "Say, you tell her from me that I'm a cloak-model,an' proud of it. Dancin'-master, eh? Do you stand for a josh like that?"

  "Hang me if I do!" says he, jumpin' up and measurin' off three-footsteps across the floor. "The Lady Evelyn's going back to England in afew days, but before she leaves I want her to have a chance to--well, tosee that I'm not the sort she thinks I am. And I want you to help meout, professor."

  "Ah, say, you got the wrong transfer," says I. "I'm nothin' but a dub atanything like that. What you want is to get Clyde Fitch to build you anice little one-act scene where you can play leadin' gent to her leadin'lady."

  "You're mistaken, Shorty," says he. "I'm not putting up a game. Noheroics for me. I'm just a plain, ordinary chump, and willing to let itgo at that. But I'm no softy, and she's got to know it. There's anotherthing: mother and sister have carried this athletic nonsense about farenough. They'd like to exhibit me to all the fool women they know, as akind of modern Hercules, and I'm sick of it. Now, I've got a plan thatought to cure 'em of that."

  For Jarvis, it wa'n't so slow. Say, he ain't half so much asleep as helooks. His proposition is to spring the real thing on 'em, a five-roundgo for keeps, with ring-weight gloves, and all the trimmin's.

  "They've been bothering me for more," says he. "I haven't heard anythingelse since you were there. And Lady Evelyn's been putting them up to it,I'll bet a hat. What do you say, professor? Wouldn't you give it tothem?"

  "I sure would," says I. "It's comin' to 'em. And I know of two likelyRed Hook boys that's just achin' to get at each other in the ring for afifty-dollar purse."

  "No, no," says Jarvis. "I mean to be in this myself. It's--it'snecessary, you know."

  "Oh!" says I, looking him over kind of curious. "But see here, do youthink you'd be good for five rounds?"

  "I'm not quite in condition now," says he; "but there was a time--"

  You know. You've seen these college-trained boxers, that think they'rehittin' real hard when their punch wouldn't dent a cheese-pie.

  "We'd have to fake it some," says I.

  "Oh, no, that wouldn't do at all," says Jarvis. "This must be a genuinematch. I'll put up ten to one, five hundred to fifty; and if I stay thefive rounds I get the fifty."

  "Whe-e-ew!" says I. "It'd be like takin' candy from a kid. I couldn't doit."

  Jarvis, he kind of colored up at that, but he didn't go off his nut. "Ibeg pardon," says he; "but I have an idea, you know, that it wouldn't beso one-sided as you think."

  Well, say, I've made lots of easy money off'n ideas just like that, andwhen it was put up to me as a personal favor to do it, I couldn't renig.It did go against the grain to play myself for a longshot, though; butJarvis wouldn't listen to anything else, claimin' his weight and reachmade it an even thing. So I takes him on, an' we bills the go for thenext afternoon.

  "I may have to bring up Swifty Joe for a bottle-holder," says I, "an'Swifty ain't just what you'd call parlor broke."

  "All the better for that," says Jarvis. "And I'd be much obliged ifyou'd find another like him for my corner."

  Course, there's only one Swifty. He's got a bent-in nose, an' a lop ear,an' a jaw like a hippo. He's won more bouts by scarin' his man stiffthan any plug in the business. He'd been a champ long ago, if it wa'n'tfor a chunk of yellow in him as big as a grape fruit. No, I couldn'tmatch up Swifty. I done the next best thing, though; I sent for GorillaQuigley, and gets Mike Slattery to hold the watch on us.

  Mike gets the hint that this was a swell joint we was goin' to; so heshows up in South Brooklyn evenin' dress--plug hat, striped shirt, andsack coat. I makes him chuck the linen for a sweater; but I couldn'tseparate him from the shiny top piece. The Gorilla always wears aswimmin' jersey with a celluloid dicky; so he passes muster.

  Anyways, when old Knee Pants, the Blenmont butler, sees us lined up atthe front entrance, we had him pop-eyed. He was goin' to ring up thepolice reserves, when Mr. Jarvis comes out and passes us in.

  "They're a group of forty-nine per cents.," says I; "but you said youwanted that kind."

  "It's all right," says he. "I've explained to the ladies that a few ofmy friends interested in physical culture were coming up to-day, andthat perhaps they'd better stay out; but they'll be there just thesame."

  He'd got 'em right, too. Just as we'd fixed the ropes, and got out thepails and towels, in they floats; mother beamin' away like a head-light,sister all fixed ready to blow bubbles, and the Lady Evelyn with hernose stickin' up in the air.

  "Professor, will you do the honors?" says Jarvis to me.

  And I did 'em. "Ladies," says I, "lemme put you next to some sure-firetalent. This gent with the ingrowin' Roman nose-piece is me assistantSwifty Joe Gallagher. He's just as
han'some as he looks."

  "Aw, cut it out!" says Swifty.

  "Back under the sink with the rest of the pipes," says I, out of theside of my mouth. Then I does another duck. "And this here gooseb'ryblond in the Alice-blue jersey, is Mr. Gorilla Quigley, that put Gansout once--all but. The other gent you may have met before, seein' ashe's from one of the first families of Brooklyn--lives under the bridge.His name's Mike Slattery. Now, if you'll excuse us, we'll get busy."

  As I takes my corner, I could see mother beginnin' to look worried; butsister opens a box of chocolate creams and prepares to have the time ofher life. Lady Evelyn springs her lorgnette and sizes us up like we wasa bunch of Buffalo Bill Indians just off the reservation.

  I'd forgot to tip off Slattery that there wasn't any postprandialsexpected of him; so the first thing I knew he was makin' his little ringspeech, just the same's if he was announcin' events at the Never DieAthletic club.

  "Now gents--and ladies," says he, "this is a five-round go for a stay,between Professor Shorty McCabe, ex-light-weight champeen of the world,and another gent what goes on the cards as an unknown. It's catchweights, an' the winner pulls down the whole basket of greens. Thereain't goin' to be no hittin' after the clinch, and if there's any fouls,you leave it to me. Don't come buttin' in. It's been put up to me tokeep time an' referee this mix-up, and I don't want no help. Youbottle-holders stay in your corners till the count's over. Now are youready? Then go!"

  There was a squeal or two when we sheds our bath-robes and steps to themiddle, and I guesses that the ladies was gettin' their first view ofring clothes. But I wasn't lookin' anywhere but at Jarvis. And say, hewould have made a hit anywhere. He had just paddin' enough to round himout well, and not so much as to make him look ladyfied. Course, he was agood many pounds over-weight for the job he'd tackled, but he'd havelooked mighty well on a poster. Honest, it seemed a shame to have tomuss him.

  Jarvis wa'n't there to stand in the lime-light, though. He went right towork as though he meant business. I'd kind of figured on lettin' himhave his own way for a couple of rounds, takin' it easy, an' jockeyin'him into making a showin'; but the first thing I knows he lands a rightswing that near lifts me off my feet, an' Swifty sings out to me to stopmy kiddin'.

  "Beg pardon," says Jarvis; "but I'm after that fifty."

  "If I'd had a putty jaw, you'd got it then," says I. "Here's the twin tothat."

  But my swipe didn't reach him by an inch, and the best I could do was toswap half-arm jolts until I'd got steadied down again. Well say, Iwasn't more'n an hour findin' out that I couldn't monkey much withJarvis. He knew how to let his weight follow the glove, and he blockedas pretty as if he was punchin' the bag.

  "You didn't learn that in no college," says I, fiddlin' for a place toplant my left.

  "You're quite right," says he, and bores in like a snow-plough.

  We steamed up a little in the second; but it was an even break at that,barrin' the fact that I played more for the wind, and had Jarvisbreathin' fast when Slattery called quits. Gorilla Quigley was onto hisjob, though, an' he gives him good advice while he was wavin' the towel.I could hear him coachin' Jarvis to save his breath and make me do therushin'.

  "Don't waste no time on that cast-iron mug of his," says Gorilla. "Allyou gotter do is cover up an' stay the limit."

  But that wa'n't Jarvis's program. He begins like a bridge car-rushermakin' for a seat, and he had me back into my corner in no time at all.We mixed it then, mixed it good and plenty. Jarvis wa'n't handin' outany love-taps, either; and I didn't have beef enough to stop ahundred-an'-eighty pound swing without feelin' the jar. I was dizzy from'em all right; but I jumps in close an' pounds away on his ribs until hegives ground. Then I comes the Nelson crouch, and rips a few cross-oversin where they'd do the most good.

  That didn't stop him, though. Pretty soon he comes in for more. Say, Inever see a guy that could look pleasanter while he was passin' out hotones. It wasn't a fightin' grin, same as Terry wears; it was just acalm, steady, business-like proposition, one of the kind that goes witha "Sorry to trouble you, but I've got to knock your block off." Now, Ican grin, too, until I makes up my mind that it's time to pull the otherchap's cork. But I was never up against any of this polite businessbefore. It wins me, though. Right there I says to myself: "Jarvis, ifyou can keep that up for two rounds more, you're welcome to win out." Itwas worth the money.

  And just as I gets this notion in my nut, he cuts loose with a bunch ofrapid-fire jabs that had me wonderin' where I'd be if one landed justright. I ain't got it mapped out yet just how it happened; for aboutthen the ladies let go a lot of squeals; but I remembers stoppin' afacer that showed me pin-wheels, an' then I quits fancy boxin'.

  We was roughin' it all over the ring, and Swifty an' the Gorilla wasyellin' things, an' Slattery was yellin' back at them, and the muss wasas pretty as any ten-dollar-a-head crowd ever paid to see, when all of asudden Jarvis misses a swing, and I throws all I had into an upper cut.It connected with his chin dimple like a hammer on a nut. The next thingI knows Swifty has the elbow-lock on me from behind, and Mike isstandin' over Mr. Jarvis makin' the count.

  Well, there wa'n't any cheerin' and shoutin'. I didn't have to shakehands with any crazy bunch, or be toted off to the dressin'-room ontheir shoulders. When I gets so I can look straight I sees mother keeledover in her chair, and sister fannin' her with the chocolate box. Andsay, I felt like a lead quarter. Next I takes a squint at Lady Evelyn.She was standin' up as stiff as a tin soldier on parade, with her eyessnappin' and her fingers clinched.

  Just one of them looks was enough for me. I gets busy with a pail, andgoes to work on Jarvis. He was clean out, of course, but restin' as easyas a baby. We was bringin' him round all right, when I feels a push thatshoves me to one side, and in rushes Lady Evelyn. She gets one arm underhis neck just as he opens his eyes with that kind of a "What's thematter now?" way they has of comin' back.

  Course, it don't last long, that wizzy feelin' and there ain't any hurtto speak of afterward; but I reckon Lady Evelyn don't know much aboutknock-outs. The way she hugs him up you'd thought he'd been halfkilled. We was all lookin' foolish and useless, I guess, when the ladyturns to me and snaps out:

  "Brute! I hope you're satisfied!"

  Say, it wouldn't have been worse if I'd been caught robbin' a poor box."Thank you, ma'am," says I, and fades into the background.

  "Go away, all of you!" says she.

  So Swifty and the other two comes taggin' along behind, and we had alittle reunion in the dressin'-room.

  "On the dead, now," says Slattery, "what was the foul?"

  "Who's claimin' foul?" says Swifty, bristlin'.

  "Why the lady gives it to Shorty straight," says he.

  "Ah, go dream about it!" says Swifty. "She don't know a foul from a bodywallop."

  "See here," says I, "you can talk all that over while you're hoofin' itback to the station; and you're due to be on your way in just fourminutes by the clock; so chuck it!"

  "I ain't heard no step-lively call," says Slattery. "Besides, I likesthe place."

  "Well, it don't like you," says I. "Mr. Jarvis and me have had enough ofyour rough-house society to last us a time and a half. Nowbunky-doodle!"

  They was a sore-head trio for fair, after that; but when I'd paid 'emoff, with a fiver extra for luck, they drops out of a window onto thelawn and pikes off like a squad of jail-breakers. I was some easier inmy mind then; but I wa'n't joyful, at that.

  You see, Mr. Jarvis had treated me so white, and he was such a nicedecent chap, that I was feelin' mighty cut up about givin' him the quickexit right before the girl he was gone on. Sure, he'd played for it; butI could see I shouldn't have done it. Knock-outs ain't in my line anymore, anyway; but to spring one right before women folks, and in a swelljoint like Blenmont--say, it made me feel like a last year's straw haton the first day of June.

  "Shorty," says I, "you're a throw-back. You better quit travelin' withreal gents, and commence eatin' with your knife ag
ain. Here's Mr. Jarvisgets you to help him out in a little society affair, and you overdoes itso bad he can't square himself in a hundred years. Back to the junctionfor yours."

  Well, I was that grouchy I wouldn't look at myself in the glass. But Irubs down and gets into my Rialto wardrobe that I'd brought along in asuit-case. Then I waits for Jarvis. Oh, I didn't want to see him, but itwas up to me to say my little piece.

  It was near an hour before he shows up, wearin' his bathrobe, an'lookin' as gay as a flower-shop window.

  "On the level, now," says I, before he had a show to make any play atme, "if I'd known what a pinhead I was, I'd stayed in the cushion. Howbad did I queer you?"

  "Shorty," says he, shovin' out his hand, "you're a brick."

  "An' cracked in the bakin', eh?" says I.

  "But you don't understand," says he. "She's mine, Shorty! The LadyEvelyn--she's promised to marry me."

  "Serves you right," says I, as we shakes hands. "But how does she allowto get back at me?"

  "Oh, she knows all about everything now," says Jarvis, "and she wants toapologize."

  Say, he wasn't stringin' me either. Blow me if she didn't. And sister?"You're horrid!" says she. "Perfectly horrid. So there!" Now can youbeat 'em? But, as I've said before, when it comes to figurin' on whatwomen or horses'll do, I'm a four-flusher.