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at its last notch only one man made it, and that was a kingston
athletebut unfortunately not a lakerimmer, as punk remained behind
with the others, and divided second place with a rival.
a sack race was introduced to furnish a little diversion for the
audience, which, in view of the length of the program, was beginning
to believe that, after all, it is possible to have too much of a good
thing. the kingstonians had put their hope in this event upon the
twins. none but the dozen could tell them apart, but the kingstonians
felt confident that one of the red-headed brotherhood would win out.
and so it looked to the audience when the long row of men were tied
up like dummies in sacks that reached to their necks; for, after the
first muddle at the start, two small brick-top figures went bouncing
along in the lead, like hot-water bags with red stoppers in them.
the kingstonians, not knowing which of the twins was in the lead, if
indeed either of them actually led, yelled violently:
the twins! the twins!
it was reddy that had got the first start and cleared the multitude,
but heady, by a careful system of jumping, was soon alongside his
brother. he made a kind-hearted effort to cut reddy off, with the
result that they wabbled together and fell in a heap. they did not
mind the fact that two or three other sack-runners were falling all
over them; nor did they care what became of the race: the desire of
each was to tear off that sack and get at the wretched brother that
had caused the fall. not being able to work their hands loose, they
rolled toward each other, and began violently to bunt heads. finding
that this banner of battle hurt the giver of the blow as much as it
did the receiver of it, they rolled apart again, and began to kick at
each other in a most ludicrous and undignified manner. the lakerimmers
were finally compelled to rush in on the track and separate the loving
brothers. strange to say, the twins got no consolation for the loss of
the race from the fact that the audience had laughed till the tears
ran down its face.
[illustration: tied up like dummies in sacks.]
when the running high jump went to troy on account of the inability
of b.j. to reach even his own record, the kingstonians began to feel
anxious of results. troy had won six events, and they had won only
four. the points, too, had fallen in such a way that there was a bad
sawed-off appeared upon the horizon as a temporary rescuer; and while
he could not put the sixteen-pound bag of shot so far as he had in
better days sent the sixteen-pound solid shot, still he threw it
farther than any of the trojans could, and brought the kingston score
up to within one of the events gone to troy. pretty added one more by
a display of grace and skill in the fencing-match with foils, that
surprised even his best friends from lakerim, and won the unanimous
vote of the three judges, themselves skilful fencers.
a wet blanket was thrown on the encouragement of the kingstonians by
their inferiority at weight-lifting. sawed-off was many pounds from
the power of a certain powerful trojan, who was a smaller man with
then all the members of the dozen had a special parlay with jumbo,
imploring him to save the day and the honor of both kingston and
lakerim by winning the wrestling-match.
when jumbo glanced across the floor and saw the man that was to be his
opponent striding toward the mat in the center of the floor, he wished
that some one else had been placed as the keystone in the kingston
arch of success. for jumbo knew well the mans record as a wrestler.
but jumbo himself, while small, was well put together; and though
built, as he said, close to the ground, he was built for business.
since he had gone in for wrestling he had made it the specialty of
all his athletic exercises. he had practised everything that had any
bearing on the strengthening of particular muscles or general agility.
he had practised cart-wheels, hand-springs, back and front flips. he
had worked with his neck at the chest-weight machine. he would walk on
his hands to strengthen his throat, and his collars had grown in a few
weeks from thirteen and a half to fifteen, and he could no longer
wear his old shirts without splitting them. he made the mats in the
kingston gymnasium almost his home.
his special studies were bridging and spinning. he spent hours on his
back, rising to his two feet and his head and then rolling from one
shoulder to the other and spinning to his front. when he had his
bridge-building abilities fairly well started, he compelled his heavy
chum sawed-off to act as a living meal-bag, and rolled around upon
the top of his head and bridged, with sawed-off laying all his weight
across his chest. when he went to bed he bridged there until the best
of wrestlers, sleep, had downed him. when he woke in the morning, he
fell out of bed to the floor, turning his head under him and rolling
so as not to break his neck or any bones, and bridging rigidly upon
his head and bare feet.
jumbo knew that, whatever might be the ability of his rival, the
trojan ware, at least he, jumbo, could have his conscience easy with
the thought that he had made the most profitable use of the short time
he had spent on wrestling, and that he would put up as good a fight as
was in him.
more than that no athlete can do.
jumbo and ware met upon the mattress with their close-shaven heads
looking like bulldogs jowls; and they shook handsif one can imagine
bulldogs shaking hands.
jumbo had two cardinal principles, but he could put neither of them
into practice in the first maneuvers: the first was always to try to
get out of one difficulty by dumping the opponent into another; the
second was always to try for straight-arm leverages.
ware being the larger of the two, jumbo was content to play a waiting
game and find out something of the methods of his burly opponent. he
dodged here and there, avoiding the reaching lobster-claws of ware by
quick wriggles or by slapping his hands away as they thrust. suddenly
ware made a quick rush, and, breaking through jumbos interference,
seized him around the body to bend him backward. but while the man was
straining his hardest, jumbo brought his hands around and placed them
together in front of the pit of his stomach, so that the harder ware
squeezed the harder he pressed jumbos fists into his abdomen.
ware looked foolish at being foiled so neatly, and broke away, only to
come at jumbo again, and clasp him so close that there was no room for
his fists to press against wares diaphragm. but now jumbo suddenly
clasped his left arm back of wares neck, and with his right hand bent
the mans forehead back until he was glad enough to let go and spring
away. ware continued to run around jumbo as a dog runs around a treed
cat. but jumbo always evaded his quick rushes till ware, after many
false moves, finally made a sudden and unforeseen dash, seized jumbos
right hand with both of his, whirled in close, and, with his back
against jumbos chest, carried the lakerimmers right arm straight and
stiff across his shoulder. bearing down with all his weight on this
lever, and at the same time dropping to his knees, he shot jumbo over
his shoulders, heels over head