and keep that antagonist down for a space of ten seconds. So he
never struck merely to hurt; the hurt was incidental to the end, and
the end was quite another matter. And yet here, with this girl he
loved, came the desire to hurt. Why, when with thumb and forefinger
he had ringed her wrist, he should desire to contract that ring till
it crushed, was beyond him. He could not understand, and felt that
he was discovering depths of brutality in his nature of which he had
never dreamed.
Once, on parting, he threw his arms around her and swiftly drew her
against him. Her gasping cry of surprise and pain brought him to
his senses and left him there very much embarrassed and still
trembling with a vague and nameless delight. And she, too, was
trembling. In the hurt itself, which was the essence of the
vigorous embrace, she had found delight; and again she knew sin,
though she knew not its nature nor why it should be sin.
THE GAME
12
Came the day, very early in their walking out, when Silverstein
chanced upon Joe in his store and stared at him with saucer-eyes.
Came likewise the scene, after Joe had departed, when the maternal
feelings of Mrs. Silverstein found vent in a diatribe against all
prize-fighters and against Joe Fleming in particular. Vainly had
Silverstein striven to stay the spouse’s wrath. There was need for
her wrath. All the maternal feelings were hers but none of the
maternal rights.
Genevieve was aware only of the diatribe; she knew a flood of abuse
was pouring from the lips of the Jewess, but she was too stunned to
hear the details of the abuse. Joe, her Joe, was Joe Fleming the
prize-fighter. It was abhorrent, impossible, too grotesque to be
believable. Her clear-eyed, girl-cheeked Joe might be anything but
a prize-fighter. She had never seen one, but he in no way resembled
her conception of what a prize-fighter must be–the human brute with
tiger eyes and a streak for a forehead. Of course she had heard of
Joe Fleming–who in West Oakland had not?–but that there should be
anything more than a coincidence of names had never crossed her
mind.
She came out of her daze to hear Mrs. Silverstein’s hysterical
sneer, “keepin’ company vit a bruiser.” Next, Silverstein and his
wife fell to differing on “noted” and “notorious” as applicable to
her lover.
“But he iss a good boy,” Silverstein was contending. “He make der
money, an’ he safe der money.”
“You tell me dat!” Mrs. Silverstein screamed. “Vat you know? You
know too much. You spend good money on der prize-fighters. How you
know? Tell me dat! How you know?”
“I know vat I know,” Silverstein held on sturdily–a thing Genevieve
had never before seen him do when his wife was in her tantrums.
“His fader die, he go to work in Hansen’s sail-loft. He haf six
brudders an’ sisters younger as he iss. He iss der liddle fader.
He vork hard, all der time. He buy der pread an’ der meat, an’ pay
der rent. On Saturday night he bring home ten dollar. Den Hansen
gif him twelve dollar–vat he do? He iss der liddle fader, he bring
it home to der mudder. He vork all der time, he get twenty dollar–
vat he do? He bring it home. Der liddle brudders an’ sisters go to
school, vear good clothes, haf better pread an’ meat; der mudder lif
fat, dere iss joy in der eye, an’ she iss proud of her good boy Joe.
“But he haf der beautiful body–ach, Gott, der beautiful body!–
stronger as der ox, k-vicker as der tiger-cat, der head cooler as
der ice-box, der eyes vat see eferytings, k-vick, just like dat. He
put on der gloves vit der boys at Hansen’s loft, he put on der
gloves vit de boys at der varehouse. He go before der club; he
knock out der Spider, k-vick, one punch, just like dat, der first
time. Der purse iss five dollar–vat he do? He bring it home to
der mudder.
“He go many times before der clubs; he get many purses–ten dollar,
fifty dollar, one hundred dollar. Vat he do? Tell me dat! Quit
THE GAME
13
der job at Hansen’s? Haf der good time vit der boys? No, no; he
iss der good boy. He vork efery day. He fight at night before der
clubs. He say, ‘Vat for I pay der rent, Silverstein?’–to me,
Silverstein, he say dat. Nefer mind vat I say, but he buy der good
house for der mudder. All der time he vork at Hansen’s and fight
before der clubs to pay for der house. He buy der piano for der
sisters, der carpets, der pictures on der vall. An’ he iss all der
time straight. He bet on himself–dat iss der good sign. Ven der
man bets on himself dat is der time you bet too–”
Here Mrs. Silverstein groaned her horror of gambling, and her
husband, aware that his eloquence had betrayed him, collapsed into
voluble assurances that he was ahead of the game. “An’ all because
of Joe Fleming,” he concluded. “I back him efery time to vin.”
But Genevieve and Joe were preeminently mated, and nothing, not even
this terrible discovery, could keep them apart. In vain Genevieve
tried to steel herself against him; but she fought herself, not him.
To her surprise she discovered a thousand excuses for him, found him
lovable as ever; and she entered into his life to be his destiny,
and to control him after the way of women. She saw his future and
hers through glowing vistas of reform, and her first great deed was
when she wrung from him his promise to cease fighting.
And he, after the way of men, pursuing the dream of love and
striving for possession of the precious and deathless object of
desire, had yielded. And yet, in the very moment of promising her,
he knew vaguely, deep down, that he could never abandon the Game;
that somewhere, sometime, in the future, he must go back to it. And
he had had a swift vision of his mother and brothers and sisters,
their multitudinous wants, the house with its painting and
repairing, its street assessments and taxes, and of the coming of
children to him and Genevieve, and of his own daily wage in the
sail-making loft. But the next moment the vision was dismissed, as
such warnings are always dismissed, and he saw before him only
Genevieve, and he knew only his hunger for her and the call of his
being to her; and he accepted calmly her calm assumption of his life
and actions.
He was twenty, she was eighteen, boy and girl, the pair of them, and
made for progeny, healthy and normal, with steady blood pounding
through their bodies; and wherever they went together, even on
Sunday outings across the bay amongst people who did not know him,
eyes were continually drawn to them. He matched her girl’s beauty
with his boy’s beauty, her grace with his strength, her delicacy of
line and fibre with the harsher vigor and muscle of the male.
Frank-faced, fresh-colored, almost ingenuous in expression, eyes
blue and wide apart, he drew and held the gaze of more than one
woman far above him in the social scale. Of such glances and dim
maternal promptings he was quite unconscious, though Genevieve was
quick to see and understand; and she knew each time the pang of a
fierce joy in that he was hers and that she held him in the hollow
of her hand. He did see, however, and rather resented, the men’s
glances drawn by her. These, too, she saw and understood as he did
not dream of understanding.
THE GAME
14
CHAPTER III
Genevieve slipped on a pair of Joe’s shoes, light-soled and dapper,
and laughed with Lottie, who stooped to turn up the trousers for
her. Lottie was his sister, and in the secret. To her was due the
inveigling of his mother into making a neighborhood call so that
they could have the house to themselves. They went down into the
kitchen where Joe was waiting. His face brightened as he came to
meet her, love shining frankly forth.
“Now get up those skirts, Lottie,” he commanded. “Haven’t any time
to waste. There, that’ll do. You see, you only want the bottoms of
the pants to show. The coat will cover the rest. Now let’s see how
it’ll fit.
“Borrowed it from Chris; he’s a dead sporty sport–little, but oh,
my!” he went on, helping Genevieve into an overcoat which fell to
her heels and which fitted her as a tailor-made over-coat should fit
the man for whom it is made.
Joe put a cap on her head and turned up the collar, which was
generous to exaggeration, meeting the cap and completely hiding her
hair. When he buttoned the collar in front, its points served to