The game . wanted to see him wreak ven-geance on this beast that persecuted him as she waxed impatient, the chancecame, and Joe whipped his fist to Pontasmouth. It was a staggering blow. Shesaw Pontas head go back with a jerk andthe quick dye of blood on his lips. Theblow, and the great shout from the audience,angered him. He rushed like a wild fury of his previous assaults was asnothing compared with the fury of this there was no more opportunity for an- 136 THE GAME other blow. Joe was too busy livingthrough the storm he had already caused, blocking, coveringup, and d
The game . wanted to see him wreak ven-geance on this beast that persecuted him as she waxed impatient, the chancecame, and Joe whipped his fist to Pontasmouth. It was a staggering blow. Shesaw Pontas head go back with a jerk andthe quick dye of blood on his lips. Theblow, and the great shout from the audience,angered him. He rushed like a wild fury of his previous assaults was asnothing compared with the fury of this there was no more opportunity for an- 136 THE GAME other blow. Joe was too busy livingthrough the storm he had already caused, blocking, coveringup, and duckinginto the safetyand respite of the clinches. But the clinchwas not all safetyand respite. Ev-ery instant of itwas tense watch-fulness, while thebreak-away wasstill more dangerous. Genevieve had no-ticed, with a slight touch of amusement, thecurious way in which Joe snuggled his bodyin against Pontas in the clinches; but shehad not realized why, until, in one suchclinch, before the snuggling in could be. THE GAME 137 effected, Pontas fist whipped straight up inthe air from under, and missed Joes chinby a hairs-breadth. In another and laterclinch, when she had already relaxed andsighed her relief at seeing him safely snug-gled, Ponta, his chin over Joes shoulder,lifted his right arm and struck a terribledownward blow on the small of the crowd groaned its apprehension, whileJoe quickly locked his opponents arms toprevent a repetition of the blow. The gong struck, and after the fleetingminute of rest, they went at it again—inJoes corner, for Ponta had made a rush tomeet him clear across the ring. Where theblow had been struck, over the kidneys, thewhite skin had become bright red. Thissplash of color, the size of the glove, fasci-nated and frightened Genevieve so that shecould scarcely take her eyes from it. 138 THE GAME Promptly, in the next clinch, the blow wasrepeated; but after that Joe usually man-aged to give Ponta the heel of the gloveon the mouth and so hold
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