Regency Buck Read Online Free PDF

feather, but so, too, did Molyneux, emerging from his greatcoat. The Black had an enormous reach, and huge muscular development. He looked a formidable customer, but the betting was steady at three to one on Cribb.
    In another few moments the seconds and bottle-holders left the ring, and at eighteen minutes past twelve precisely (as Mr. Fitzjohn verified by a glance at his watch) the fight began.
    For about a minute both men sparred cautiously, then Cribb made play right and left, and Molyneux returning slightly to the head, a brisk rally followed. The Champion put in a blow to the throat, and Molyneux fell.
    “Nothing to choose between ’em, so far,” said Mr. Fitzjohn wisely. “Mere flourishing. But Cribb always starts slow. Stands well up, don’t he?”
    At setting-to again the Champion showed first blood, at the mouth, and immediately a brisk rally commenced. Cribb put in a good hit with his right; Molyneux returned like lightning on the head with the left flush, and some quick fighting followed at half-arm. They closed, and after a fierce struggle the Black threw Cribb a cross-buttock.
    Mr. Fitzjohn, who had risen from his seat in his excitement, sat down again, and said there was nothing in it. Peregrine, observing the Champion’s right eye to be nearly closed from the last rally, could not but feel that Molyneux was getting the best of it. He had a tremendous punch, fought with marked ferocity, and seemed quicker than Cribb. The third round opened with some sparring for wind; then Cribb put in a doubler to the body which pushed Molyneux away. A roar went up from the crowd, but the Black kept his legs, and rushed in again. For one and a half minutes there was some quick, fierce fighting; then they closed once more, and again Molyneux threw Cribb.
    “The Black will win!” Peregrine exclaimed. “He fights like a tiger! I’ll lay you two to one in ponies the Black wins!”
    “Done!” said Mr. Fitzjohn promptly, though he looked a trifle anxious.
    In the fourth round Molyneux continued fighting at the head, and putting in some flush hits, drew blood. Mr. Fitzjohn began to fidget, for it was seen that both Cribb’s eyes were damaged. Molyneux, however, seemed to be in considerable distress, his great chest heaving, and the sweat pouring off him. The Champion was smiling, but the round ended in his falling again.
    Peregrine was quite sure the Black must win, and could not understand how seven to four in favour of Cribb could still be offered.
    “Pooh, Cribb hasn’t begun yet!” said Mr. Fitzjohn stoutly. “The Black’s looking as queer as Dick’s hat-band already.”
    “Look at Cribb’s face!” retorted Peregrine.
    “Lord, there’s nothing in the Black having drawn his cork. He’s fighting at the head all the time. But watch Cribb going for the mark, that’s what I say. He’ll mill his man down yet, though I don’t deny the Black shows game.”
    Both men rattled in well up to time in the next round, but Molyneux had decidedly the best of the rally. Cribb fell, and a roar of angry disapproval went up from the crowd. There were some shouts of “Foul!” and for a few moments it seemed as though the ring was to be stormed.
    “I think the Black hit him as he fell,” said Mr. Fitzjohn. “I think that must have been it. Jackson makes no sign, you see; it can’t have been a foul blow, or he would.”
    The disturbance died down as both fighters came up to the mark for the sixth round. It was now obvious that Molyneux was greatly distressed for wind. Cribb was still full of gaiety. He avoided a rather wild lunge to left and right, and threw in a blow to the body. Molyneux managed to stop it, but was doubled up immediately by a terrific blow at the neck. He got away, but was dreadfully cut up.
    “What did I tell you?” cried Mr. Fitzjohn. “Good God, the Black’s as sick as a horse! He’s all abroad! Cribb has him on the run!”
    The blow seemed indeed to have shaken the Black up badly. He was