agility on the balls of his feet. Then at the moment of maximum acceleration, his right leg stiffened at the front edge of the circle and he released the hammer. It described a great arc above the blackness of Lillie Bridge and shuddered down in the centre of the throwing-sector.
From where Cribb stood, the throw looked at least the equal of the Englishman’s. With the greatest difficulty, he resisted the impulse to cheer. He ran to the mark to make quite sure he was not deceived by some trick of perspective. ‘It’s a long one,’ said the second official superfluously. ‘There won’t be much in it between the two of them. Did he put his foot out of the circle, do you suppose?’
The arrival of the first official from the opposite end led Cribb to wonder momentarily if such a calamity had taken place. Fortunately, it was not so. ‘Mr Malone has elected not to take his last throw,’ came the explanation, ‘so we may now commence the measuring of the best effort of each competitor.’ The second official took the end of the measuring-tape from his colleague with the familiarity of a well-established ritual and walked to the circle, pulling for more tape as he required it. Soon a quivering line was established between the front of the circle and Devlin’s mark. ‘One hundred and eight feet precisely,’ announced the second official.
‘Holy Mother of God!’ exclaimed Devlin. ‘I’ve never thrown anything so far in all my life. That’s the sweetest little hammer I’ve ever held in my two hands.’
‘Malacca,’ Cribb reminded him, in an aside.
‘Ah! Malacca.’ Devlin winked.
The measuring-party moved tensely across to the Englishman’s pennant at the extreme edge of the sector. At the front edge of the circle, the first official held his end of the tape rigidly in place. The second official was on his knees by the pin with everyone else clustered around him. The Englishman was the first to leap up in excitement. ‘One hundred and eight feet one, by Heaven! I’ve done it by an inch.’ He snatched Devlin’s hand and shook it vigorously. ‘Splendid competition, old man. You certainly brought out the best in me. You too.’ He nodded in Malone’s direction, but did not go so far as to shake his hand.
‘That’s it, then. Congratulations,’ said Devlin.
‘Just a moment.’ The voice was Cribb’s. He was standing at the circle, beside the first official. ‘I should like the throw to be measured again according to the rules,’ he called. ‘I think we may find a discrepancy.’
The Englishman strode the thirty-five yards to where Cribb was standing. ‘Just what do you intend by that remark, sir?’
‘That we are subject to the regulations of the Amateur Athletic Association,’ said Cribb mildly. ‘If I may quote— and I think I can—“All distances shall be measured from the circumference of the circle to the first pitch of the hammer, along a line drawn from that pitch to the centre of the circle. ” The latter was not observed in this case, gentlemen. The measuring of both throws was taken from the same spot at the front of the circle. It would not, of course, affect the measuring of Mr Devlin’s throw, which happened to be in line with the front, but I suggest that we re-measure the other.’
‘I believe he’s right,’ conceded the first official. ‘The bloody laws are always being changed.’
‘Not this one,’ said Cribb. ‘It has been in force for several years.’
The tape was extended again, this time between the Englishman’s mark and the point of the circle nearest to it.
‘One hundred and seven feet, eleven and a half inches,’ said the second official. ‘Mr Devlin wins.’
‘You’re a son of Erin, by Jesus!’ said a voice in Cribb’s ear.
CHAPTER
5
‘THIS IS MOST CIVIL of you,’ said Cribb, indicating the pint of ale in front of him.
‘Not at all,’ said Devlin. ‘It’s a poor sort of man that doesn’t repay a kindness. I don’t let
From where Cribb stood, the throw looked at least the equal of the Englishman’s. With the greatest difficulty, he resisted the impulse to cheer. He ran to the mark to make quite sure he was not deceived by some trick of perspective. ‘It’s a long one,’ said the second official superfluously. ‘There won’t be much in it between the two of them. Did he put his foot out of the circle, do you suppose?’
The arrival of the first official from the opposite end led Cribb to wonder momentarily if such a calamity had taken place. Fortunately, it was not so. ‘Mr Malone has elected not to take his last throw,’ came the explanation, ‘so we may now commence the measuring of the best effort of each competitor.’ The second official took the end of the measuring-tape from his colleague with the familiarity of a well-established ritual and walked to the circle, pulling for more tape as he required it. Soon a quivering line was established between the front of the circle and Devlin’s mark. ‘One hundred and eight feet precisely,’ announced the second official.
‘Holy Mother of God!’ exclaimed Devlin. ‘I’ve never thrown anything so far in all my life. That’s the sweetest little hammer I’ve ever held in my two hands.’
‘Malacca,’ Cribb reminded him, in an aside.
‘Ah! Malacca.’ Devlin winked.
The measuring-party moved tensely across to the Englishman’s pennant at the extreme edge of the sector. At the front edge of the circle, the first official held his end of the tape rigidly in place. The second official was on his knees by the pin with everyone else clustered around him. The Englishman was the first to leap up in excitement. ‘One hundred and eight feet one, by Heaven! I’ve done it by an inch.’ He snatched Devlin’s hand and shook it vigorously. ‘Splendid competition, old man. You certainly brought out the best in me. You too.’ He nodded in Malone’s direction, but did not go so far as to shake his hand.
‘That’s it, then. Congratulations,’ said Devlin.
‘Just a moment.’ The voice was Cribb’s. He was standing at the circle, beside the first official. ‘I should like the throw to be measured again according to the rules,’ he called. ‘I think we may find a discrepancy.’
The Englishman strode the thirty-five yards to where Cribb was standing. ‘Just what do you intend by that remark, sir?’
‘That we are subject to the regulations of the Amateur Athletic Association,’ said Cribb mildly. ‘If I may quote— and I think I can—“All distances shall be measured from the circumference of the circle to the first pitch of the hammer, along a line drawn from that pitch to the centre of the circle. ” The latter was not observed in this case, gentlemen. The measuring of both throws was taken from the same spot at the front of the circle. It would not, of course, affect the measuring of Mr Devlin’s throw, which happened to be in line with the front, but I suggest that we re-measure the other.’
‘I believe he’s right,’ conceded the first official. ‘The bloody laws are always being changed.’
‘Not this one,’ said Cribb. ‘It has been in force for several years.’
The tape was extended again, this time between the Englishman’s mark and the point of the circle nearest to it.
‘One hundred and seven feet, eleven and a half inches,’ said the second official. ‘Mr Devlin wins.’
‘You’re a son of Erin, by Jesus!’ said a voice in Cribb’s ear.
CHAPTER
5
‘THIS IS MOST CIVIL of you,’ said Cribb, indicating the pint of ale in front of him.
‘Not at all,’ said Devlin. ‘It’s a poor sort of man that doesn’t repay a kindness. I don’t let
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