cwilleford.cockfighter-第39部分

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　　〃You　killed　my　Little　Joe！〃　he　shouted。
　　I　was　still　squatting　on　my　heels　when　he　yelled；　and　I　was　totally　unprepared　for　the　enormous　fist　that　appeared　from　nowhere　and　caught　me　on　the　temple。　I　crashed　sideways　into　the　left　pit　wall　and　it　was　smashed　flat　under　the　weight　of　my　body。　My　eyes　blurred　with　tears。　All　I　could　see　were　dark　red　dots　unevenly　spaced　and　dancing　upon　a　shimmering　pink　background。　I　must　have　sensed　the　darker　shadow　of　Tom's　heavy　work　shoe　hurtling　toward　my　head。　I　rolled　over　quickly；　and　his　kick　missed　my　head。　Two　more　twisting　evasive　turns；　and　I　was　in　the　empty　horse　stall　next　to　the　pit。　As　I　scrambled　to　my　knees；　my　fingers　touched　the　handle　of　a　heavy　grooming　brush。　I　regained　my　feet　and　swung　it　in　an　arcing　loop　from　the　floor。　Tom　saw　the　edge　of　the　weighted　brush　ascending；　tried　to　halt　his　rushing　lunge；　and　half　turned　away。　The　brass…studded　edge　caught　him　on　his　blind　side；　on　the　bump　behind　his　left　ear。　As　Tom　fell；　his　arms　held　limply　at　his　sides；　the　opposite　wail　of　the　pit　collapsed　under　him。　He　was　out　cold。
　　I　could　see　all　right　now；。　but　I　kept　a　firm　grip　on　the　brush　handle　as　I　watched　Milam　Peeples　to　see　what　his　reaction　was　going　to　be。　The　old　man　shook　his　head　sadly；　and　removed　an　old…fashioned　snap…clasp　pocketbook　from　his　front　pocket。
　　〃You　didn't　have　no　call　to　hit　the　boy　that　hard；　Mr。　Mansfield；〃　he　said。　〃Little　Joe　was　Tom's　pet。　He　was　bound　to　feel　bad　about　losin'　him　so　quick。〃
　　I　tossed　the　brush　back　into　the　empty　horse　stall　and　rubbed　my　sore　side。　My　bruised　ribs　felt　like　they　were　on　fire。　My　head　was　still　ringing；　and　I　probed　my　throbbing　temple　gingerly　with　a　forefinger。　There　was　a　marble…sized　knot　beneath　the　skin；　and　it　was　swelling　even　more　as　I　touched　it。
　　〃Now；　I'm　a　little　short　of　a　thousand　dollars　in　cash；　Mr。　Mansfield；〃　Milam　Peeples　said　plaintively；　standing　on　the　other　side　of　Tom's　felled　body；　〃but　here's　three　hundred　and　fifty…two　dollars　in　bills。　You're　goin'　to　have　to　take　the　rest　of　the　debt　out　in　game　fowl。　We'd　best　go　on　down　to　the　runs　and　you　can　pick　'em　out。　I　figure　six　gamecocks'll　make　us　even。〃
　　I　didn't。　I　counted　the　bills　he　handed　me；　shoved　the　wad　into　my　hip　pocket；　and　then　held　up　ten　fingers。
　　〃Most　of　these　cocks　are　Law　Grays；　Mr。　Mansfield；〃　Peeples　protested。　〃And　three　are　purebred　Palmetto　Muffs。　You　know　yourself　there　ain't　no　better　cocks　than　Palmetto　Muffs！　Take　a　look　first；　and　you'll　see　what　they're　worth。　I　only　got　ten　gamecocks　altogether。〃　I　followed　the　old　man　out　of　the　barn。
　　Professional　cockers　frequently　pay　off　their　gambling　debts　with　gamecocks　instead　of　cash。　But　this　kind　of　payoff　is　normally　agreed　upon　before　a　fight…not　afterward。　I　had　no　objection　to　taking　gamecocks；　instead　of　money；　this　late　in　the　season。　Some　hard…hitting　replacements　would　be　useful　before　we　entered　the　Milledgevile　Tourney；　and　I　was　on　the　high　side　of　the　hog　when　it　came　to　settling　up　with　Peeples。
　　On　the　way　to　the　coop　walks；　Peeples　stopped　at　the　watering　trough　to　light　his　pipe　and　to　do　some　preliminary　dickering。
　　〃Now　you　seen　them　three　Grays　I　fit　this　afternoon；　Mr。　Mansfield。　Aces　every　one。　You　take　them；　and　any　five　more　of　the　lot　and　we'll　be　fair　and　square。　Countin'　the　cash　I　gave　you　already；　you're　gettin'　the　best　end　and　you　know　it。〃
　　Giving　Peeples　more　credit　than　he　probably　deserved；　I　figured　his　gamecocks　were　worth　about　fifty　dollars　a　head。　According　to　my　arithmetic　I　would　be　short　about　two　hundred　and　fifty　dollars　if　I　only　took　eight　cocks。　Even　if　I　took　all　of　them　I　would　be　one　hundred　and　fifty　dollars　short　of　the　thousand　dollars　he　had　bet　me。　I　shook　my　head　with　a　positive…negative　waggle。
　　Feet　pounded　on　the　hard'packed　ground　behind　me。　I　turned。　Less　than　twenty　feet　away　Tom　Peeples　was　charging　toward　me　with　a　hatchet　brandished　in　his　upraised　right　hand。　His　red　face　was　contorted　and　his　angry　blue　eye　was　focused　on　infinity。
　　Without　taking　time　to　think　I　jumped　toward　him　instead　of　trying　to　dodge　his　rush；　twisted　my　body　to　the　left；　and　kicked　hard　at　his　right　shinbone。　Tripped　neatly；　he　sprawled　headlong　in　the　dirt。　The　hatchet　flew　out　of　his　hand　and　skittered　for　a　dozen　yards　across　the　bare　ground。　Before　he　could　recover　himself　I　had　a　handgrip　in　his　thick　hair　and　another　hold　on　his　leather　belt。　With　one　jerk　as　far　as　my　knees；　followed　by　a　short　heave；　Tom　Peepies　was　in　the　water　trough。　I　shifted　my　left　hand　from　his　belt　to　his　hair　and　held　him　beneath　the　water　with　both　hands。　His　legs　thrashed　the　scummy　water　into　green　foaming　milk；　but　he　couldn't　get　his　head　up。　I　watched　the　popping　bubbles　break　at　my　wrists　and　held　him　under　until　his　feet　stopped　churning。
　　〃You'd　best　not　hold　his　head　under　too　long；　Mr。　Mansfield；〃　his　father　said　anxiously。　〃He'll　be　drownded！〃
　　That　was　true　enough。　I　didn't　want　to　drown　the　man。　I　only　wanted　to　cool　him　off　so　I　could　plete　my　business　with　Mr。　Peeples　and　get　back　to　Cook's　Hollow。　When　I　let　go　of　Tom's　head；　he　broke　free　to　the　surface；　blubbering。　He　had　lost　the　bandage　in　the　water；　but　both　eyes　were　closed。　He　took　handholds　on　both　sides　of　the　tin…lined　trough　and　brought　his　body　up　to　a　crouched　position。　He　stayed　that　way；　half　in　the　water；　and　half　out；　his　chin　on　his　chest；　weeping　like　a　child。　But　he　wasn't　a　child。　He　was　at　least　twenty…two　years　old；　and　he　had　tried　to　kill　me。
　　Mr。　Peeples　and　I　continued　our　walk　toward　his　chicken　runs。　Although　the　old　cockfighter　plained；　he　helped　me　put　the　seven　mature　cocks　into　narrow　traveling　coops　that　were　in　the　runs；　and　brought　the　three　Grays　that　were　already　in　coops　over　to　my　station　wagon　from　his　old　car。　It　was　easy　to　catch　Icky；　who　was　scratching　in　a　horse　stall。　After　cutting　off　the　heels；　I　put　him　back　in　his　coop。
　　〃I　suppose　you're　goin'　to　tell　Vern　Packard　how　you　beat　me；〃　Mr。　Peeples　said；　as　I　slipped　behind　the　wheel　and　slammed　the　door。
　　Looking　him　directly　in　the　eyes；　I　nodded　my　head。
　　〃If　you　do；　Mr。　Mansfield；〃　he　begged；　〃me　or　Tom　neither'll　be　ashamed　to　show　our　faces　down　to　the　pit　for　two　or　three　years。〃
　　I　shrugged；　and　let　out　the　clutch。
　　As　I　drove　out　of　the　barn　lot；　Tom　Peeples　was　still　hunkered　down　dejectedly　in　the　water　trough　like　an　old　man　washing　his　privates　in　a　bathtub。
　　
　　
　　On　the　return　drive　to　Vern　Packard's　house　I　missed　one　of　the　turns　and　had　to　redouble　twice　before　I　found　the　way　back　to　the　main　road。　It　was　dark　when　I　wheeled　into　his　driveway。　Vern　switched　on　the　yard　lights　and　came　outside　to　meet　me。
　　〃Who　won？〃　he　asked　excitedly；　as　I　got　out　of　the　station　wagon。
　　I　handed　him　the　fragment　of　rosin；　took　the　wad　of　bills　out　of　my　pocket　and　counted　off　one　hundred　dollars。　Grinning；　I　pushed　the　hundred　dollars　into　his　hand。　He　kissed　the　bills；　and　returned　the　sliver　of　rosin。
　　〃You　keep　it；　Frank；〃　he　said　happily。　〃You　paid　me　enough　for　it。　e　on　inside　and　eat。　I　was　looking　for　you　to　get　back　an　hour　ago；　but　I've　been　waiting　supper　on　you。　It's　still　warm　though。〃
　　As　soon　as　I　was　seated　at　the　kitchen　table；　Vern　served　the　plates　and　turned　the　burner　up　higher　under　the　coffee　to　reheat　it。　There　were　rolls；　baked　ham　and　candied　sweet　potatoes。　Vern　put　enough　food　on　my　plate　for　three　men；　but　I　dug　into　it。
　　As　he　poured　the　coffee；　Vern　said　jokingly；　〃What　do　you　carry；　Frank？　A　rabbit's　foot；　a　lucky　magnet　or　do　you　wear　a　bag　of　juju　bones　around　your　neck？〃
　　I　stopped　eating　and　looked　at　him。
　　Vern　laughed。　〃Your　partner　telephoned　about　twenty　minutes　after　you　left。　Mr。　Baradinsky。　First；　he　wanted　to　know　how　you　made　out；　and　I　told　him。　Then　he　had　some　news　for　you　about　the　Chattanooga　derby　in　the　Southerner　Hotel。〃
　　I　put　my　knife　and　fork　down　and　waited；　trying　to　hide　my　impatience　at　the　way　he　was　dragging　out　the　story。
　　Again　Vern　laughed。　〃No；〃　he　said；　〃it　isn't　what　you're　thinking；　Frank。　They　weren't　raided。　The　pit　was　hijacked；　and　the　thieves　got　away　with　about　twenty…five　thousand　bucks；　according　to　your　partner。　He　got　the　information　secondhand；　and　it　won't　be　in　the　papers。　No　chickens　were　lost；　but　everybody　there…cockers；　gamblers　and　even　Mr。　Reed　himself…lost　their　pants。　There　were　three　holdup　men；　all　with　shotguns；　and　they　knew　exactly　what　they　were　doing。　They　made　everybody　take　off　their　pants　and　throw　them　in　the　middle　of　the　pit。　Then　one　of　them　filled　up　a　mattress　cover　with　all　the　pants　and　they　left　the　hotel　suite。　They　didn't　fool　with　rings　or　watches。　Just　the　pants〃…Vern　laughed　heartily…　〃but　the　money　was　in　the　pants！　That　closed　the　Chattanooga　meet。　I'll　bet　Fred　Reed　has　a　tough　time　getting　an　okay　from　Senator　Foxhall　for　a　S。C。　derby　next　year！〃
　　I　pursed　my　lips　thoughtfully；　nodded　my　head；　and　started　eating　again。　My　swollen　temple　was　throbbing；　and　I　wanted　to　put　an　ice　pack　on　it。
　　The　next　morning　I　left　Cook's　Hollow　to　join　Omar　in　Bioxi；　with　a　standing　invitation　to　fight　at　Vern　Packard's　game　club　any　time　I　felt　like　it。　I　had　added　902　to　my　bankroll　and　ten　purebred　fighting　cocks　to　our　stake　in　the　S。C。　Tourney。　But　no　matter　what　Vern　Packard　thought；　I　wasn't　lucky。
　　At　long　last；　my　experience　and　knowledge　of　cockfighting　were　beginning　to　pay　off。　That；　and　the　fact　that　I　was　using　the　good　sense　God　gave　me。
　　
　　
　　
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　　I　have　back　issues　of　all　five　game…fowl　magazines　covering　the　Southern　Conference　derbies　held　at　Bioxi；　Auburn　and　Ocala；　but　I　don't　have　to　dig　through　them　to　find　the　results。　I　remember　them；　all　of　them；　perfectly。
　　In　Bioxi；　we　fought　in　the　cockpit　established　in　a　warehouse　near　the　waterfront；　and　we　won　the　derby　6…3；　plus　three　thousand　five　hundred　dollars　in　cash。　Icky　also　won　his　fourth　hack　at　Bioxi　over　a　Hulsey　two…time　winner　entered　by　Baldy　Allen　from　Columbus；　Georgia。　Omar；　who　was　spelling　me　on　handling　in　the　pit　from　time　to　time；　was　awarded　a　wristwatch　by　the　pit　officials　as　the　Most　Sportsmanlike　Handler　in　the　B