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- Колин Маккалоу
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- Стр. 85/535
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Father
Ralph
lifted
his
eyes
heavenward
.
"
If
you
'll
only
tell
me
how
we
can
get
her
away
from
here
without
the
entire
Gilly
police
force
arresting
us
for
molesting
a
child
,
I
'll
gladly
go
!
But
her
brother
volunteered
and
she
's
not
about
to
leave
her
brother
without
a
fight
that
will
make
your
chaps
look
like
amateurs
!
"
The
foreman
shrugged
.
"
Well
,
Father
,
I
ca
n't
argue
with
you
,
can
I
?
In
you
go
,
but
keep
her
out
of
the
way
,
for
--
ah
--
pity
's
sake
.
No
,
no
,
Father
,
put
your
money
back
in
your
pocket
;
Jimmy
would
n't
like
it
.
"
The
tent
seemed
full
of
men
and
boys
,
milling
around
a
central
ring
;
Father
Ralph
found
a
place
at
the
back
of
the
crowd
against
the
canvas
wall
,
hanging
on
to
Meggie
for
dear
life
.
The
air
was
foggy
from
tobacco
smoke
and
redolent
with
sawdust
they
had
thrown
down
to
absorb
the
mud
.
Frank
,
gloves
already
on
his
hands
,
was
the
first
challenger
of
the
day
.
Though
it
was
unusual
,
it
was
not
unknown
for
a
man
out
of
the
crowd
to
last
the
distance
against
one
of
the
professional
boxers
.
Admittedly
they
were
n't
the
best
in
the
world
,
but
they
did
include
some
of
the
best
in
Australia
.
Put
up
against
a
flyweight
because
of
his
size
,
Frank
knocked
him
out
with
the
third
punch
he
threw
,
and
offered
to
fight
someone
else
.
By
the
time
he
was
on
his
third
professional
the
word
had
got
around
,
and
the
tent
was
so
jammed
they
could
not
fit
another
eager
spectator
inside
.
He
had
hardly
been
touched
by
a
glove
,
the
few
blows
he
had
taken
only
provoking
his
ever-smoldering
rage
.
He
was
wild-eyed
,
almost
spitting
in
passion
,
each
of
his
opponents
wearing
Paddy
's
face
,
the
yells
and
cheers
of
the
crowd
throbbing
in
his
head
like
a
vast
single
voice
chanting
Go
!
Go
!
Go
!
Oh
,
how
he
had
ached
for
the
chance
to
fight
,
denied
him
since
coming
to
Drogheda
!
For
to
fight
was
the
only
way
he
knew
of
ridding
himself
of
anger
and
pain
,
and
as
he
landed
the
felling
punch
he
thought
the
great
dull
voice
in
his
ears
changed
its
song
,
to
Kill
!
Kill
!
Kill
!
Then
they
put
him
with
one
of
the
real
champions
,
a
lightweight
under
orders
to
keep
Frank
at
a
distance
and
find
out
if
he
could
box
as
well
as
he
could
punch
.
Jimmy
Sharman
's
eyes
were
shining
.
He
was
always
on
the
lookout
for
champions
,
and
these
little
country
shows
had
yielded
several
.
The
lightweight
did
as
he
was
told
,
hard-pressed
in
spite
of
his
superior
reach
,
while
Frank
,
so
possessed
by
his
hunger
to
kill
that
dancing
,
elusive
figure
he
saw
nothing
else
,
went
after
him
.
He
learned
with
every
clinch
and
flurry
of
blows
,
one
of
those
strange
people
who
even
in
the
midst
of
titanic
rage
still
can
think
.
And
he
lasted
the
distance
,
in
spite
of
the
punishment
those
expert
fists
had
meted
out
;
his
eye
was
swelling
,
his
brow
and
lip
cut
.
But
he
had
won
twenty
pounds
,
and
the
respect
of
every
man
present
.
Meggie
wriggled
from
Father
Ralph
's
slackened
clasp
and
bolted
from
the
tent
before
he
could
catch
hold
of
her
.
When
he
found
her
outside
she
had
been
sick
,
and
was
trying
to
clean
her
splattered
shoes
with
a
tiny
handkerchief
.
Silently
he
gave
her
his
own
,
stroking
her
bright
,
sobbing
head
.
The
atmosphere
inside
had
not
agreed
with
his
gorge
either
,
and
he
wished
the
dignity
of
his
calling
permitted
him
the
relief
of
releasing
it
in
public
.
"
Do
you
want
to
wait
for
Frank
,
or
would
you
rather
we
went
now
?
"
