“WELCOME THE TRAVELLER”

Wairarapa Times-Age, 28 September 1939, Page 12

“WELCOME THE TRAVELLER”

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

By

ARTHUR HARDY.

CHAPTER XIV. “Robert,” said the solicitor as the door closed, “draw that chair closer and, sit down.” Adam Lawley eyed his grimly. “Robert,” he said, “I have just sold Traveller’s Buildings to Peter Marloiv.” Robert Berry sat 'bolt upright in nis chair, his smile vanished, his eyes dilated, his lips tightened, the colour forsook his cheeks. “No, sir—er —l mean, I am sorry to hear that?’ The half a minute’s silence that followed was broken by the solicitor. “No, Robert. I was only teasing you. Marlow wanted me to sell the Building to him, but I dislike the man and rather than let him have the property I’d sell it to the town.”

A warm pink coloured the tan of Robert's expressive face, his smile returned, his eyes softened. “Do you care all that much?” asked Adam, noticing the flush. “I believe I do, sir. I confess thdt until lately the building appealed to me as a lovely and an interesting one, but it never meant anything vital. Now I think I would do almost anything to prevent its being destroyed, sir.”

“How would you like to buy it, Robert?” “But I’ve got no money.” “You earned sixty pounds fighting on Monday night.” “I have not much to add to that, sir.”

“But you would buy Traveller’s Buildings if you had the money?” Unemotionally Robert considered the point. “I believe I would.” “I could sell the property to the town for twenty thousand pounds, Robert. It’s a lot of money, but then the site is unique, the best in Tansworth. Meanwhile I draw a pretty good return from the rental of the offices. The cost of repairs in nearly all cases is thrown on the tenants, and I can afford to keep the property.” Adam Lawley leant across the desk towards Robert. ,

“Now get this point, although I would not close with the tentative offer of twenty, thousand' pounds from the council, but might sell tomorrow, I prefer to keep the property in trust for a buyer who would preserve it, and I might let him have it for a much less sum, perhaps ten thousand pounds. My ancestor, Stephen Lawley, bought it cheaply. Does that sound odd to you?” > . Robert smiled broadly. Adam Lawley chuckled.

‘Well, there ■ it is. That’s what I think about it. I can afford to indulge in my whims, Robert. That was a surprising show you made in the ring on Monday. What are your plans. Do you intend to go on with your boxing? It might offer a career.”

“What would Prunella think if 1 gave up farming for fighting, sir?” “Prue is a woman. She is proud of your victory. If you go on with your fighting she will rejoice in your triumphs and bemoan your defeats. But I know she hates farming. She has bought a paste-in album, and do you know what she is doing with it?” “I can’t guess, Mr Lawley.” , “She has stuck in it the pictures of the fight and all the portraits of you that have been printed in the newspapers, she has given an order to a, news-cutting agency to supply her with all matters concerning one Robert Berry. She is already posing as a fight expert; but then you were always were her hero since a boy, Robert.”

At that moment the telephone bell rang. The solicitor picked up the receiver and spoke. Covering the mouthpiece of the instrument, he darted a quick glance at Berry. “It’s Daniel Shelton, Robert. Yes, he’s here, Daniel. All right—l’ll tell him. —Robert, he says he wants you to call at Wood cottage. Says it’s important—Hello, Daniel, it’s all right. Robert will see you on his way. I suppose I must not ask you to divulge secrets. —You want Robert to go on with his fighting? You have some news?—Ah, yes, I see. Good luck to you both.” Adam Lawley replaced the receiver.

"Bob, Daniel Shelton wants you to sign a contract he has prepared for you which would make him your manager. Well, he’s honest, and I know nothing but good of him. I think you might do worse. It is possible for you to make good money in the ring. I should think no less of you if you turned professional fighter for good. As for Traveller’s Buildings, they will remain as they are.”

Robert rode the cob thoughtfully up the rise of the hill to Wood Cottage and hitched the animal outside Daniel’s gate.

Daniel came hurrying along the long flower-bordered path, hooked Robert by the arm and led him into the house. "Dan wanted to horn in on this,” said he, "but I have set him to weeding the back garden so that we can have a quiet talk. Sit down. Robert. Here, run your eyes over this. It is the usual contract a boxing manager has with the lads he handles. If you think some of the clauses are frightening, they don’t mean a thing; they are put in there to help a men keep his ‘colts’ in bounds. Another thing, if you hitch up with me, you’ll see that the commission I’ll take is only 15 per cent instead of the usual 25 per cent boxing managers expect to draw as a rule. I have the same understanding with my son Dan. And remember, I have to do a lot of work for the money I earn. I fix up fights, I wrestle' with details, I break down prejudices, I pit my wits against the promoters’, and I have to stand a lot of expenses that aren’t for the eye to see.” l Robert read the conditions of ihe' contract eagerly. He could see nothing unfair about it and did not deem

it worth while to submit it to Adam Lawley’s judgment. Daniel would give him a fair deal.

“There’s one thing I want to make clear, Daniel. If I sign this, which makes me. in a sense, your slave, I want to carry on at the farm as long as possible.” Daniel Shelton grinned. “Sure. No objection. I’ve never seen harm come to a fighter through his working long hours in the open air. You can do what you like at the farm until your fighting becomes so important you’ll have to put it first all the time, and if that happens you won’t want to do any more farming.” Daniel had already signed the document and his signature was witnessed by Joe Capstow. “Eh, Dan,” Shelton bawled through the open window. Dan came running in from the garden, a tumble of fair curling hair falling about his forehead. Robert affixed his sign-, ature to the deed.

"Witness it, Dan,” said Shelton. Dan wrote his name on the paper, winked at Robert.

“That puts us together in the same camp at last, Bob,” he grinned. “I’m glad. Good luck.” Their right hands met. Daniel blotted the paper, passed a duplicate which in turn was signed and witnessed. “And now for a bit of news, Bob,” said he, his eyes on fire. “This morning I arranged with Mark Blissard for Dan to fight McGinty over twelve rounds in six weeks time. The winner of that contest will be matched to fight Ben Brannock for the heavy-weight championship of the world, most likely. Dan is to get three thousand pounds or thirty per cent of the gate, whichever is the bigger and I’ve fixed up a fight for you on the same night. Blissard is crazy over heavyweights.” “A fight for me, Daniel?” Already?” “Yes, Bob. Blissard wants you. He .leapt at the chance. You tickled- him to death the way you beat Slavin. That’s one reason why I was so keen on getting you under contract. Bob, you are going to fight Soldier Flynn six rounds as the main preliminary to Dan’s fight with McGinty and you are to get two hundred pounds. Robert’s eyes snapped. Soldier Flynn was a clumsy fifteen and a half stones fighter with a mixed record. He was good when he was good but very bad when he was bad. Size and weight had never yet scared Robert. “So, you had me on toast before you ’phoned Adam Lawley at the office,” he remarked.

Robert Berry was so fit that he needed little special training for his second fight as a professional, whilst Dan Shelton, after his long preparation for Jack Richards, needed only regular exercise and boxing practice to keep him from slipping backwards. On Friday of that week Robert, leaving his mother to call at the Tansworth Bank, motored to London with Daniel and Dan, where they signed the necessary agreements with the promoter and Daniel engaged the services of all the old sparring partners of the Wood Cottage camp, Mid that evening a real boxing sensation was launched upon the sporting world. Not for a long time had a British Empire Champion shown such willingness to risk his title in the ring so soon after winning i.t. The record books showed Mike McGinty to be a tougher proposition than Richards had eVer been. McGinty was almost the logical contender for the title the next time Ben Brannock stepped into the ring to defend his world’s championship, providing he could beat Dan Shelton; and vice versa. If Dan could brush McGinty out of the way his claim to a title fight would be clear.

Meanwhile Tansworth was set alight by the news that young Robert Berry had turned professional fighter for good and y/as going to give up tilling the soil to see if he could grab a fortune out of the ring instead. Robert’s prestige had grown immeasurably in Tansworth as a result; so had Dan Shelton’s and Daniel’s, too. Tansworth had not figured so prominently in the newspapers since the railways had side-tracked the town and reduced it to a remote and decaying village.

The newspapers begun to dig up tales of Waterloo Berry, and Tom Shelton and Jack Randall, and they did not forget the "Welcome the Traveller” Inn.

Up at Wood Farm, John Robert Berry, father of the new professional glove slinger, stared unbelievingly at the big post each morning brought, and gaped as he studied the fresh orders for farm produce that poured in from all parts of the county. He began to figure on a steady and p'erhaps an increasing profit for the first time since the boom years. When Robert visited the town he found it hard, work to get about, so many people wanted to talk to him, and his hand grew cramped and his pen ran dry through signing autograph books for the boys. That night, after dinner, he was lazily reading an illustrated weekly when the telephone bell rang. His father and mother had gone down in the car to Mill Street to see brother John and his wife. Robert lifted ofT the receiver and found Nora at the other end of the line.

‘‘lt’s Bob!” Her voice shook with excitement. “Oh, I’m so glad to get you. You know I told you when you called to see me last Friday that I have been to the theatre every day with Jessie, and taking my place with the other girls who were being shown the steps of a new dance; well, today I had an audition. Jessie insisted on it. Mr Nesbitt, the manager, was there; and several of the theatre syndicates. I sang a song, Jessie’s song, you know the one about the moonlit night and the lovely girl, I also did some of my impersonations and played an imaginary scene. And they engaged me for the show.”

“What! Do you mean to say that you are playing in the revue, Nora?”

“No, not ’yet. I am understudying Jessie, and Fay Selby. But when the

revue needs some new scenes a part is to be written in for me; and so I am staying on at Jessie’s indefinitely. “&o glad. At last you will be earning money, Nora.” “But I miss the farm. I never see anything of you. Bob, although I am happy here with Jessie, I hate to confess it, but I am homesick. But I am coming home on Sunday, with Jessie. She is going to drive me to Tansworth, and we are going to stay until late on Monday afternoon.” , “I’m more than glad, Nora.

The voice faded. Robert resumed his armchair and turned again to his paper. How marvellous for Nora. How sweet of Jess. Surely the luck had turned when he had found Waterloo Berry?” (To be Continued).