JACK MAKES A NAME FOR HIMSELF
Frank, who had never seen Jack exhibit his prowess in the fistic
art, and who was rather a skillful boxer himself, though by no
means a heavyweight, muttered to himself:
"Why didn't I insist on taking him on myself? Jack is due for a
good lacing. He's strong enough, but he hasn't the science, I'm
afraid."
He stood nervously in his friend's corner.
The Frenchman opened the fight with a rush, and his friends
uttered subdued cheers and encouragement as he dashed at Jack.
In size, it appeared that the two were about evenly matched,
although the Frenchman was a shade taller than his opponent.
That his comrades believed him a master of the fistic art was
evinced by their cries:
"Finish him up quickly."
"Let him stay a couple of rounds."
"No; one round's enough."
The Frenchman rushed, evidently having decided to finish the
fight as quickly as possible. His expression showed that he had
no doubt of his ability to polish off the Englishman and of his
superiority as a boxer.
Jack met the first rush calmly, and with a slight smile on his
face. His guard was perfect and not a blow reached him. The
Frenchman landed blow after blow upon Jack's arms, with which the
lad covered first his face and then his body.
Frank, having a knowledge of boxing, realized that he was
witnessing a defense that was indeed remarkable, and muttered
happily to himself. But to the rest of the spectators it
appeared that their idol was hitting his man at will, and they
continued to encourage him with low words, at the same time
hurling epithets at Jack.
So far Jack had not attempted to strike a blow; nor had he given
ground. He had presented a perfect defense to his opponent, who
danced rapidly about him, striking from this side and that. The
round ended, and still Jack had not offered at his opponent.
The Frenchman himself, however, skillful boxer that he was, was
not deceived. He realized, as he rested in his corner, that he
had met a foeman worthy of the best he had to offer. As yet,
though, he had no means of telling what the lad had in store for
an attack of his own; but he realized that Jack's defense was
well-nigh perfect.
Therefore, when they advanced to the middle of the ring for the
second round, he was more wary, for he had no mind to let Jack
slip over a hard blow through carelessness. Suddenly Jack led
with his right, then made as if to land with his left. The
Frenchman threw up his arm to guard the latter blow, and Jack's
right, which had not been checked--the feint with the left
having made the desired opening--caught the Frenchman flush on
the nose.
The Frenchman staggered back. Jack followed this advantage with
a quick left and then another right to the Frenchman's face.
Both blows had steam behind them, and his opponent, plainly in
distress, covered up quickly and cinched.
In the clinch he attempted to deliver several short arm blows,
but Jack was prepared for this kind of fighting, and blocked them
with ease. Finally the two broke, and the Frenchman stood on the
defensive.
It was apparent to all who were not too prejudiced that he now
stood in awe of his opponent's hitting power.
Then they stood off and boxed at long range, and Jack trimmed his
adversary beautifully. Tiring of this, the Frenchman rushed, but
time was called as he swung wildly. In swinging he left a wide
opening. Jack, starting a hard blow, turned it aside when the
referee called time.
"Where did you learn to box?" asked Frank breathlessly between
rounds.
"Why," said Jack, with a smile, "from my father. He was rather
proficient in the use of his fists."
"He must have been," said Frank dryly. "Why didn't you tell me
you could box?"
"You never asked me," replied Jack calmly.
He arose and walked slowly to meet his opponent as the referee
again called time.
"Now, my friend," said Jack to his opponent, "I am going to give
you as good a licking as you ever have had."
He feinted with dazzling rapidity several times, and drove a
straight left to the Frenchman's ear. With lightning-like
quickness he played a tattoo upon the Frenchman's face and body.
Bewildered, his opponent dashed into a clinch.
"If you say so, we'll call this off right here," said Jack.
The Frenchman suddenly freed himself, and his reply to this
kindly offer was to send a jab to Jack's nose, drawing blood.
"Just for that," said Jack quietly, who felt somewhat ashamed at
having been caught off his guard, "I'll finish this fight right
now. There is no need prolonging it."
Once, twice, he rocked the Frenchman's head, and then, as the
latter came forward in a last desperate effort, Jack pivoted on
his heel, and, starting his left low, swung. The Frenchman
checked himself in his attack, and desperately tried to leap
back.
But it was too late. Through his guard went the blow, and,
catching the Frenchman on the point of the chin, it lifted him
from his feet and into the air.
At least four feet through the air went the Frenchman, and came
to the deck, head first, at the feet of his friends. He lay
there while the referee counted him out.
Quickly Jack leaped forward, and, kneeling, raised his late
opponent's head.
"Water, some of you," he called.
It was quickly brought, and Jack, wetting his handkerchief,
bathed the Frenchman's face. His efforts were at last rewarded
by a slight groan, and finally the unconscious man opened his
eyes.
"What hit me?" he asked in a faint whisper.
"It's all right, old man," said Jack. "You'll be all right in a
second."
Slowly the light of comprehension dawned in the Frenchman's eyes.
He struggled to his feet, where he stood uncertainly for a few
moments, looking at his conqueror.
Jack extended a hand.
"I'm sorry I had to do it," he said, a pleasant smile lighting up
his face.
The Frenchman looked at him in silence for a full minute, then,
stepping forward, he grasped the outstretched hand.
"What are you," he demanded, grinning, "a prizefighter?"
"No," said Jack, with a laugh, "but I guess I have had better
training than you."
"Well," said the Frenchman, "if you ever need anybody to help you
out, you can count on me. Maybe some day you will bump up
against someone who can best you, but I believe the two of us
together can put him down."
"Thanks," laughed Jack, "I'll remember that offer when the time
comes."
The other French middies now gathered found and shook Jack and
Frank both by the hand, while the one who had first made himself
odious apologized profusely for his actions.
"Say no more about it," exclaimed Frank. "I'm glad we're all
friends at last."
Further conversation was interrupted by the sudden sound of a
bugle on deck. It was the call to quarters.
Quickly all sprang to their posts. Men dashed hither and
thither, and in almost less time than it takes to tell it the
Marie Theresa was cleared for action.
Then, at last having time to glance about, the two lads made out
the cause of this sudden call. Several miles across the water
could be seen two small cruisers. A closer look showed the boys
the German flag flying at the masthead of each.
"Now," said Frank to Jack, "we'll have an opportunity of seeing
how the French fight."
"They'll fight," said Jack briefly. "You may make sure of that."
"Nevertheless I would rather that we had an English crew."
Now the range was signaled to the gunners, and the Marie Theresa
quivered and recoiled as the first of her big guns spoke. The
shot fell short. Again the range was signaled, and once more the
shot fell short, though nearer, the first of the German cruisers.
The third shot plowed up the water under her bow.
"We have the range now," said Jack, "we'll hit her next time."
His words proved true. A solid shot, hurled by one of the Marie
Theresa's forward guns, struck the first German cruiser squarely
in the side. The two following ones hit her just below the water
line.
"That's pretty good shooting, if you ask me," said Frank
enthusiastically.
But now the Germans also had succeeded in finding the range, and
a shell burst over the Marie Theresa, hurling its fragments upon
the deck. Five men went down, never to rise again.
As the battle progressed the two German cruisers drew farther and
farther apart, until now they poured their fire upon the Marie
Theresa from two directions. To avoid this cross fire, the
commander of the Marie Theresa signaled full speed ahead, and
dashed straight for the nearest of the enemy.
In spite of the galling fire from both of the enemy, the Marie
Theresa bore down on the German cruiser. Too late the latter
turned to flee from her larger opponent; but her guns continued
to pour in her fire.
Although raked from stem to stern, the Marie Theresa had not been
hit in a vital spot. The first German cruiser turned to run,
but, by a quick maneuver, Captain Dreyfuss plowed into her as she
turned. The sharp prow of the Marie Theresa crashed into the
German amidships, and so terrific was the impact that the French
ship recoiled.
But it was the death-blow of the German cruiser. Men leaped into
the small boats and put off from the ship, or flung themselves
head first into the sea. The Marie Theresa drew off and turned
her attention to the other German cruiser.
But the latter had had enough. She turned quickly and headed
west. Boats were lowered from the Marie Theresa and hurried to
the aid of the survivors of the enemy. Many were picked up and
taken aboard the French ship.
On the bridge of the German cruiser' now settling fast, could be
seen the German commander. Several officers were gathered about
him. They were gesticulating violently, but to each the captain
shook his head negatively.
"They'll all be drowned if they don't hurry," said Captain
Dreyfuss anxiously. "Why don't the fools jump!"
Suddenly the German commander drew a revolver from his pocket,
and pointed it directly at the protesting officers. They drew
back. The German commander followed them.
One by one they threw themselves into the sea all but one. At
him the commander pointed revolver, and shook his head vigorously.
The latter protested.
Finally the German commander hurled his weapon far into the sea,
and held out his hand. The officer took it, and, arm in arm, the
two walked, back to the bridge.
The German cruiser lurched heavily, but the two German officers
were unmindful of it. Calmly the commander drew two cigars from
his pocket, and offered one to the officer. The latter accepted
it, and, taking a match from his pocket, struck it calmly.
He held the match so his commander could get a light, then
lighted his own cigar. Thus the two stood, calmly smoking, as
the cruiser settled.
Slowly the fatally wounded craft sank lower and lower in the
water, until nothing was visible below the bridge. Then, with a
sudden lurch, this to disappeared--nothing but the mast
remained--then nothing at all.
The German commander had gone down with his ship--as had so
many before him--as would so many after him.
The commander of the Marie Theresa lifted his cap, uttering no
word--a silent tribute to a hero.