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Bandy Taylor was in his late sixties； with brown leathery skin and enough deep wrinkles on his face to resemble a relief map。 His legs were so bowed； he couldn't have caught a pig in a trench。
Although Bandy's pit was not an elaborate setup； all of the Lownes County cockfighters liked to meet there。 His wife maintained a small stand outside the pit area； where she sold coffee； Coca…Colas and hamburgers； and Bandy charged a reasonable； one…dollar admission fee。 The old man； an authorized S。C。T。 referee； never bet on the fights； but he made enough money on admission fees and the food his wife sold to get by。 Any wins I had there could be signed by Bandy on the official records； and they would be acceptable by the Mifiedgevifie judges for qualifying purposes。
The crowd was small； considering that four hacks between Pete Chocolate and our new partnership had been scheduled。 There were thirty some…odd spectators； including a nervous Yankee tourist from Silver Springs。 There were only a half dozen other cockers； looking for extra hacks。 I wanted to get an extra hack for Icky； but the prospects weren't too good。 I wrote my name and Icky's weight on the blackboard and hoped for the best。
Pete Chocolate won the toss and decided to fight from bottom weights up。 His fighters were all Spanish crosses； and they were in fine feather。 Omar held for me while I heeled the 4：02 Roundhead； and then he tried to rustle up a few bets in the bleachers。 I considered fighting Icky against the other 4：02 opponent； but the Spanish Ace looked too formidable。 I had made a good decision。 Omar was also lucky in the stands； because the only bet he could get was a ten…dollar even money wager。
The Spanish cock uncoupled my Roundhead； breaking his spine； in the first pitting。 He was counted out； paralyzed and unable to move a feather。 Omar paid Pete Chocolate the fifty…dollar loss； and paid off the fan in the stands。 Because of our quick loss in the first fight； Omar was able to lay a thirty…dollar bet on the oute of the second hack。
In the second fight； I showed the 5：00 Middleton Gray； and he finished his opponent in the fourth pitting。 My Gray shuffler got above the Spanish every time。
The third battle was one of those fights that never appear to get anywhere。 The two cocks were evenly matched； and very little damage was done until the eighteenth pitting。 By the twenty…third pitting we were alternating on calling for the count。 On my count； however； the Spanish developed a rattle from an earlier wound； refused to face； and the hack was mine。 Our Roundhead was well battered and wouldn't be able to fight again for at least two months。
The fourth hack was a miracle win。 My 5：10 Mellhorn Black had been in fights before； and he smothered the Spanish in the first two pittings。 In the third pitting； the Black attacked furiously the moment I released his tail。 The Spanish was bowled over and fell back close to the wall。 He leaped high into the air； and landed on the ground outside the pit。 The Spanish was game…he wasn't a runner by any means…but he was outside the pit and my Black was still inside。
It was a tense moment。 I held my breath； and none of the spectators made a sound。 If Pete's Spanish had jumped back into the pit； the fight would have been continued。 He didn't。 Confused； twisting his head about in search of my gamecock； the Spanish darted under the bleachers in bewildered retreat。 The hack was mine by default。
I had known Pete Chocolate for several years； but this was the first time I ever saw him get really angry。 He caught his gamecock； removed the heels； and swung the cock's neck against an upright post。 He then jerked off the cock's head。 This isn't easy。 It takes a strong man to pull a chicken's head off with his bare hands。 He tossed the dead chicken on the ground and came back to the pit。
〃That's the first runner I ever had； Frank；〃 Pete said blackly。 〃A Spanish don't run！ That same cock won two fights before。 Is that a runner？ D'you ever hear of me showing a runner？〃
I shook my head solemnly。 Blood had dripped from the dead chicken's neck onto the white polo shirt Pete was wearing with his tuxedo； and his white tennis shoes were splashed with blood。
〃He didn't run； Pete；〃 Omar said。 〃He was confused and didn't remember where the pit was； that's all。〃
〃He won't get confused again！〃 Pete said with satisfaction。 He whipped out his wallet and paid Omar off。 We were ahead one hundred dollars from Pete Chocolate； and Omar had won eighty dollars more in side bets。 We had lost one cock； and our Roundhead had been battered so badly he might not ever win another fight。 We were just about even。
A good first day； I thought； as Omar joined me at the lunch stand。
〃Frank；〃 he said； 〃there's a kid at the cockhouse with a Gray cross of some kind who wants to fight Icky。 His name is Junior Hollenbeck。 D'you know him？〃
I nodded and finished my Coke。 I didn't actually know Junior； but his father； Rex Hollenbeck； was a real…estate man in Ocala。 He had introduced himself to me one day in town。 Mr。 Hollenbeck was a fan； he said； and he had seen me handling at the Orlando International Tourney。
〃Do you want to fight him； Frank？ The kid's only about nineteen； and his Gray shades Icky two full ounces。〃
I started toward the cockhouse to see whether I did or not。 Junior was waiting in front of Icky's coop； cradling his Gray gamecock in his arms。 He was a well…dressed young man； wearing buckled shoes； charcoal…flannel Daks； and a gaily colored body shirt。 His tangled chestnut hair was worn long； all the way to his shoulders； and his face was sunburned。 He had a sparse straggly moustache； and the pointed chin whiskers of a young ram goat。 Evidently his nose had peeled； because it was smeared with a thick covering of white salve。
〃This is Mr。 Mansfield； Junior；〃 Omar introduced us。
〃I know。 I saw the 4：02 weight on the blackboard； Mr。 Mansfield；〃 Junior said； all business； 〃and thought I'd challenge you。 My cock's won two fights this year and has a couple of ounces over yours； but I'm wffling to cut away some feathers for the chance to fight you。〃
I stared impassively at the kid； and he blushed through his sunburn。
〃That is；〃 he added； 〃the man I bought him from said he won two fights in Tallahassee。〃
I took the Gray out of Junior's arms and felt him。 The bird went in and out like an accordion。 I turned to Omar； winked； and moved my chin down a fraction of an inch。
〃You've got a hack； Junior；〃 Omar said。 〃And you don't have to cut any feathers。 The Southern Conference allows a two…ounce leeway either way on hacks。 But you'll have to fight short heels。 Got any？〃
〃No； sir。 I don't have any heels at all。 I thought I might borrow a set。 And I want to bet twenty…five dollars； even money。〃
〃Fair enough。 I'll lend you a pair。 D'you want me to heel him for you？〃
〃I know how to heel him；〃 Junior said defensively。 〃I've heeled cocks plenty of times。 Just lend me the heels and hold him for me。〃
Omar laughed good…naturedly。 〃Sure。 Wait'll I tell Bandy there's an extra hack； before his crowd gets away。〃
There had been two hacks held before the four between Pete Chocolate and me。 After our last hack； a few of the spectators had departed； including the nervous tourist； but there were still a dozen or more standing around discussing the fights。 When Bandy announced that there was going to be another hack； they scrambled hurriedly into the bleachers and began making bets。
We heeled with inch…and…a…quarter gaffs。 To my surprise； Junior did a good job of heeling his Gray。 By the way he handled his chicken； I could see he knew his way around the pit； and I felt a little better about the fight ing up。
While Bandy examined both cocks prior to the fight； I listened to the bettors。 Although the Gray was announced as a two…time winner； and the Blue…as Icky was called…was announced as a short…heel novice in his first fight； most of the bettors were taking Icky and offering five to one。 The odds were caused； in part； by my reputation； but they really preferred my gamecock because of his color。 This kind of thinking was like betting on the color of a jockey's eyes instead of on the record of the horse at a racetrack。 At any rate； Omar had a hard time getting bets。 Even with the high odds； only a few men were willing to back the Gray。 But Omar finally managed to lay three ten…dollar wagers。
Junior was nervous during the billing； but he handled fairly well。
When Bandy told us to 〃get ready〃 in his reedy old man's voice； Junior squatted behind his score； and held the Gray's tail like a professional。
〃Pit！〃
Icky took two short steps forward and then flew six feet into the air。 The Gray ran forward on the ground at the same time； and Icky landed behind him。 They wheeled simultaneously and mushed； breast against breast； engaged in a shoving contest。 The Gray backed off； and then tried a short rushing feint that didn't work。 Icky got above him； shuffled； and the two went down with Icky's right gaff through the Gray's left wing。
〃Handle！〃
Junior disengaged the heel from the Gray's wing bone； and we retreated to our respective scores for a thirty…second rest。 The boy worked so furiously over the Gray I had to grin。 He blew on the cock's back； stretched and jerked the neck； spat into its mouth； rubbed the thighs vigorously between his hands； and licked the head feathers and hackles with his tongue。
These were all legitimate nursing techniques； but to use them； any of them； after the first pitting was ridiculous。 Over…nursing does more harm than good。 Unless a gamecock is in drastic need of help； the handler can help him best by letting him rest between pittings。 I laced Icky away from the Gray and let him stand quietly so he could get the maximum benefit from the rest period。
〃Get ready；〃 Bandy said； watching his wristwatch sweephand。
〃Pit！〃
We dropped them on their scores。 Because of rough overnursing； more than for any other reason； the Gray was slow in getting started。 Icky made a forward dash with raised hackles； took off in a low； soaring flight； fanning in midair； and cut deeply into the Gray's neck with blurred gaffs。 The left heel stuck； and the two cocks tumbled over； coupled。
〃Handle！〃 Bandy said quickly。
The instant Junior removed Icky's gaff from the Gray's neck； his gamecock strangled。 When a cock's long neck fifis with blood； the strangling sound is unmistakable。 Except for going through the motions in accordance with the rules； the fight was over。 Until the Gray actually died； or refused to fight through three twenty…second counts； or unless his handler picked him up and carried him out； we still had to go through the routine pittings and counts。
Junior had heard the strangle； but he nursed the Gray furiously。 He sucked blood out of the Gray's throat and rubbed its chest hard enough to dislodge the tight feathers。 He held the feet； placed the cock on its chest and pressed his mouth against the back； blowing his breath noisily into the feathers to warm the Gray's circulation。 The Gray was down； his neck stretched flat； and his eyes were glazed。 Blood bubbled from his open beak； but he wasn't dead。 And then； right before my astonished eyes； Junior inserted his right forefinger into the downed Gray's vent and massaged the cock's testicles！
I snapped my fingers in Bandy's direction； but he had witnessed the foul as soon as I had。
〃Foul！〃 Bandy yelled。 〃The Blue wins in the second pitting！〃
I picked Icky up and held him tail first toward Bandy so he could cut the tie strings away from the heels with his penknife。 None of the spectators plained about the ruling。 The Gray had obviously lost before the foul was called anyway。 With his sunburned face redder than it had been before； Junior pushed between us。
〃What do you mean； foul！〃 he shouted at Bandy。
〃Mr。 Mansfield and I both saw you put your finger in the vent； son；〃 Bandy said quietly。 〃And so did everybody else； if they had any eyes' Omar joined me in the pit and I handed Icky over to him。
〃That's no foul。〃 Junior protested。 〃Nursing's allowed； ain't it？〃
〃Legitimate nursing； yes。 Not that kind！〃
〃I was told if you r