"Gentlemen..." looked like the ladies had left, too, leaving only Caroline and Arabella "... your referee for the evening...." he looked about for the fellow who had agreed to undertake that responsible and troublesome task. And there he was!
"... Quentin Aloysius Cantrell!!"
Quentin rolled his eyes a bit at the florid announcement. He climbed into the ring and held up a hand at the perfunctory and very scattered applause. He had left his gunbelt in the safekeeping of an acquaintance of his and his normal coat was gone. His white sleeves held up with a garter on each arm to give him more freedom of movement and his hat was keeping his sidearms company.
Quentin nodded at Crabbe and made his way over to each corner, shaking hands with each of the men about to try and beat each others' brains out. He had taken the measure of each man as they entered the ring and he admitted to himself that young Cullen was probably well and truly in over his head, but he was also an adult and capable of making his own decisions.
The volunteer referee made his way back to the middle of the ring where Crabbe still stood and he held his arms up for the crowd's attention. "Folks! We're going to have a fair fight, and the best man will win, but we're not having any blood sport! No one's dying here tonight if I can help it...now everyone sit back and prepare to enjoy yourselves...!" He stepped back a bit and nodded to Crabbe to await any other hyperbole from the fight's organizer.
He stepped back a bit and nodded to Crabbe to await any other hyperbole from the fight's organizer.
But Lorenzo was done. He nodded to the more than capable referee "I'll be in the back counting up the money..." he glanced at Charlie and Robert "... not too keen on the sight of blood." he grinned and deftly climbed out between the ropes, his pockets bulging with cash.
I took an oath for this job. The oath says bring him in. That's what I'll do.
Charlie watched as Crabbe made a hasty retreat to count his money. No matter the result of the fight, Crabbe was already the clear winner and probably his cousin Ben as well since he was running the betting. Ben had briefly stopped by to say to good luck earlier in the night but didn't mention which way the betting was going, so he no real clue who people thought the winner would be. Not that it mattered to him...all that mattered now was the man standing in the opposite corner.
There hadn't been much time to take stock of his opponent. He could see Cullen was thin and wiry which would make it difficult to land a punch. He shook his head slightly, as he realised that he may not get many punches in at all due to his lack of experience. Sure, he had been in the odd scrape or two but nothing like this. A couple of the rumours that were flying about mentioned that Cullen had some sort of professional experience. If they were true, then he didn't stand much of a chance.
However, now was not the time to dwell on what he lacked. His brothers had given him some pointers and hoped that would be enough. The best he could do for now was to pretend to look like someone who knew what he was doing. Taking a deep breath, he stood up straight and looked squarely at Cullen as he waited for what would happen next.
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
Up in the hayloft Arabella was fuming, jealousy infused the blood that pumped noisily in her ears. That blind strumpet, Frances Grimes, had strode out of the barn arm in arm with her Miriam! The fact that it was all her own fault made the anger even more intense. Looking down, the sight of the two stripped down young men (ho hum) entering the ring gave her a vent for her frustration, anger and self-blame.
She left the big Spanish guitar up there and scrabbled part way down the ladder, not quite reaching the bottom and managing to stand with her back to the lower rungs, able to see over the hats of the tall men in front. It was a great vantage point for yelling cathartic imprecations at the boxers, and the referee, of course.
"Come on Charlie!!!" she bellowed "Knock his teeth out! Bash his brains in, if he's got any! Boil his brains in turpentine!!!" That last impractical suggestion made someone turn round "I want him to win!" she explained, letting go of the ladder long enough to point at the Wentworth contender.
"The law is the law."
"Mining's not everyone's choice of hobbies, it just happens to be mine."
Speed took up his seat, ringside, in Charlies corner, looking around indeed it would appear that folks from all over had come for the contest. Entertainment being rare naturally drew just about everyone for miles around.
At that moment he saw Phinias and a woman that he recognized, but couldn' t quite remember her name, but the man was headed right toward him and the empty seats on either side of him. Speed stood up.
"Place is almost packed!" Phinn stated. "Marshal Guyer, may I present Miss Sarah Thornton-Carlton, my new reporter."
Quentin watched Crabbe stepping out of the ring. "Careful, Mr. Crabbe, you dropped some money!" He couldn't help but grin as he watched Crabbe spin around a few times, looking at the floor and the edge of the ring. Crabbe realized after a moment Quentin had only been having some fun with him.
Quentin then turned and walked back to the middle of the ring. "Gentlemen!..." He said loud enough for the spectators to hear as his arms waved both men to come to the center. "Now, when the fight starts I don't want to see any low blows...If I step in and say go to your separate corners, you better do as I say, I won't ask twice, understood?"
Quentin looked at each man and they nodded in return. "Very good, now shake hands and when the triangle rings go to it...when it rings again, go to your own corners...Good luck!" Quentin took a pace back and looked at the timekeeper who was watching his pocket watch for the top of the next minute...
"Oh, I am not so sure. Mr Wigfall sounded very happy to see you! Has he never expressed any... interest?" Frances seemed to not want to let it go.
"No, not really," Miriam was quick to reply.
"But honestly, I am fine with it. I have a close friend in Arabella. When she welcomed me to Kalispell she has opened up a whole new world to me. I am much happier here now than I ever was in New York," Miriam gushed.
" ... - - - ... "
Hector fondly imagined that Mr. Crabbe had chosen him to be the timekeeper because of his reputation as a responsible and intelligent person, rather than because he had already been paid for an evening's work and was therefore doing this for free. Also, he happened to have a watch with a second hand on it.
He only wished Miss Kaufmann had been able to stay and observe him performing this very important role. he'd been looking for a way to impress her every since he'd first laid eyes on her, standing so prettily behind the counter at Mr. Pettigrew's dress shop. Oh well, he could always take her some flowers or something. Right now he had to stop thinking about girls and concentrate on the job at hand: Mr. Cantrell was starting the fight and Mr. Cantrell was someone it was best to keep on the good side of. He had a habit of shooting people... dead.
Quentin looked at each man and they nodded in return. "Very good, now shake hands and when the triangle rings go to it...when it rings again, go to your own corners...Good luck!" Quentin took a pace back and looked at the timekeeper who was watching his pocket watch for the top of the next minute...
Hector watched the second hand crawl up the edge of his watch face, worried that he'd have some sort of involuntary spasm and clang the triangle early: boy he felt as nervous as he would if he was about to box himself!
"Place is almost packed!" Phinn stated. "Marshal Guyer, may I present Miss Sarah Thornton-Carlton, my new reporter."
Sarah smiled, "Good evening, Marshall."
The last thirty minutes or so had been a bit of whirlwind. First, she was surprised at Mr. McVay's eagerness to hire her and then she was whisked off to here for her first assignment. There was also the fact that McVay kept referring to her as Miss, when in fact she was a missus. Later, when there was more time, she could briefly tell her new boss a little bit about her past. A lady never divulged much of her background, but it would be necessary in this case.
Looking around at the noisy crowd, she wondered what she could write about. Maybe she could leave the actual fight to McVay and write about the crowd. There seemed to be plenty of characters that would interest readers and those in the east. It seemed that this wouldn't be such a bad idea after all.
I took an oath for this job. The oath says bring him in. That's what I'll do.
What seemed like a thousand ideas raced through Charlie's head as he waited but none of them would work. However, there was one course of action he could take but it would involve a bit of convincing...something he wasn't quite sure he could pull off. Maybe he should have got some pointers from Arabella and not just his brothers.
His best course of action was to stay in the fight for as long as he could, maybe two or three rounds. There was no way he was going to make twenty and he certainly didn't want to spend the next few weeks or months recovering from the pummelling he might get here. The rumours about Cullen having fought professionally, even if they weren't so would have some sort of basis in the truth, so it was something it wasn't too keen on finding out for sure.
Since, his career as a lawman depended on being see as capable and just caving in too easily or being beaten to a pulp was out of the question. All he good do was hope and pray that when the time came, his acting would be adequate for the purpose.