Louis Joseph Vance

“ His opponent, the Harlem Smasher, lingered in his dressing-room; he was in no haste to win. Impatiently the Spider moved about within the squared circle, feeling of the padded posts, testing with his feet the resiliency of the padded flooring—pawing it with something in his manner suggestive of a veteran cavalry charger sniffing again the smell of powder.
The air was humid and foul with the reek of cheap beer and the fumes of doubtful cigars. Some two hundred men were herded together in the narrow confines of Maguire's secluded back room. ”

“ Almost without warning. New York was shrouded in somber twilight. The East River was first lulled to sullen darkness, then lashed with a tremendous rain-storm, maddened to white-caps by a tearing wind. ”

“ She waived her just resentment and answered him breathlessly.
"This is Mr. Worth's yacht, Spider, the Heloise."
"Where'd he get it? His? Him? Why, he ain't got a cent in the world——"
"Mr. Worth penniless?" ”

“ Presently, calculating his moment with cold-blooded nicety, Worth touched the Spider on the arm.
"Have a drink?" he suggested good-naturedly. One may with impunity offer liquor to the wretch of the slums: to offer food, even when needed—or, rather, especially when needed—is to insult. ”

“ The girl's own family were keenly suspicious of Worth; a word would ruin him. The man, the crafty egoist, took thought; for the Spider must be eliminated for a time. "He will be glad to be taken back afterwards," Worth forecast.
He had influence of a sort that better men disdain; and abruptly he had a new valet. As for the Spider, he was serving ninety days in the workhouse for a crime which he had not committed.
IV. Into the sultry splendor of an August afternoon a black squall leaped furiously from the cloud-bank that lowered in the west. ”

“ In some way he found an instant wherein to search the hard, brutish faces again, and this time one of the swells at the door caught his eye and nodded to him pleasantly. Ah, that was what he had been needing! The Spider sprang forward with something of his old-time fire—its last, expiring flicker. The Harlem Smasher broke, astounded, under the unexpected onslaught; the Spider pressed him to the ropes relentlessly ”

“ You will marry me in spite——"
"I will never——"
"Oh, yes, but you will—after you've compromised yourself with this little trip!" He turned away, raising his voice to reach the ear of the man on the bridge: "Go——"
But the Spider, the despised, cut him short. His arm shot out, his foot crossed Worth's—and the man was rolling on the deck, half-a-dozen feet distant. The Spider caught the girl roughly by the arm; there was no time for formalities. He hurried her toward the gangway, at the foot of which lay the gasoline launch, with two white-clad figures still busy therein. ”

“ Why should you lie? It can't be! I can't believe it!"
"Don't youse take me word fer it, ma'am," he begged hoarsely. "Don't believe me. Just put it off till t'morrow—ask an' see if I've told the truth——"
Suddenly she rose and tied up the companionway. The Spider followed instantly—to find the girl confronting Worth himself.
The man stood in the stern, alone, but for the presence of the sailor at the wheel. The Heloise was not yet under way, though it was now but a matter of moments, even of seconds. The Spider noted that the launch had not cast off. ”

“ The saloon doors opened, and tho crowd, its lusts unsated because of the poor showing the Spider had put up, seethed out, dividing right and left. The Spider, quivering for shame like a whipped cur, turned aside his head that he might not be recognized. He need not have troubled; none noticed him save Worth. ”

“ Darkness came upon him, crashing, and a red flame danced before his eyes. Subconsciously he knew that he was down, struggling to rise, that the arm of the referee rose and fell steadily, that the Harlem Smasher stood over him, alert, ruthless, to deliver the final blow should he win to his knees. He slumped back wearily.
"Ten!"
II. After a while the Spider was standing in the outer doorway of Maguire's. His head ached dully, his back felt strangely weak and invertebrate, he was conscious of a drawn sensation about his deep-sunken eyes—and his stomach yearned unutterably for food. ”

“ At any rate, he argued, it would do the Spider no harm to try it on.
"Naw," said the Spider; "I wouldn't do. I ain't got no chanst. I'm—too old!"
He quvered again, tracing meaningless circles with his forefinger on the sloppy table-top. "Thanks all the same."
He was twenty-six—not seven months more. But the "ring" drains the veins of its devotees; youth fades in its blush.
Afterwards he yielded and went with Worth.
III. At the end of five years he was changed greatly, although he was still, to Worth and to his master's intimates, the Spider, the former light-weight champion. ”