The Final Adversary Read Online Free Page A

to time, he was confused by the contradictory memoriesrising in his mind. His mother was as beautiful and calm as ever. He remembered when he’d cut his foot, and she had held him in her arms, keeping the gaping wound together with one strong hand while she stroked his head with the other. The sight of blood had terrified him, but he remembered as clearly as if it were yesterday how he had clung to her, and how her hands had soothed his fear. His father looked no different. An overwhelming desire to please his father stirred him again, a desire he had never been able to forget. But he shoved the old impulse down and glanced at Esther and Andy.
    Esther, he saw, was uncomfortable, with carefully hidden disgust. She had looked at him all evening as if he were a stranger—and a frightening stranger at that! Barney turned quickly to look at his brother.
    Andrew was smiling and talking animatedly to Katie Sullivan. The young woman seemed captivated by Andy’s good looks and quick wit. Guess she’s like all the rest, Barney thought without resentment. Long ago he’d lost hope of being the sort of person his brother was, but suddenly a bitterness hit him. Why did they have to come down here? They hate it—so why don’t they stay in their nice, neat little world and leave me alone?
    Andy was unaware of Barney’s stony looks toward him. As always, he was fascinated by any new experience, and the fight had stirred his imagination. “First prizefight I ever saw, Miss Sullivan,” he said excitedly. “But you’ve seen quite a few, I suppose?”
    “Oh no!” Katie said quickly. “It was my first one, too.”
    “Oh?” Andy responded with surprise. He knew the beautiful young woman was a dance-hall girl, though he had no more experience with that type than with boxers. He studied her carefully, taking in the creamy, velvety skin, the glowing eyes and the air of seeming innocence. The other girl, Sally Danton, was the opposite—highly made-up complexion, revealing clothing, and cheap, bold looks. She fit the part.

    “Miss Sullivan,” he said, “you’re a singer in Mr. Barone’s . . . ah, place?”
    Katie noticed his hesitation, and a flush touched her throat. He had been about to say “saloon,” she sensed, then had settled for a kinder term. Katie was still sensitive, and merely nodded. But Barone had heard Winslow’s remark and leaned forward to say, “You bet she is, Mr. Winslow! But she won’t stay long—too good for the place.” Barone gave Katie a familiar pat on the shoulder, smiling at her possessively. “She’s got talent, and I’m going to see that she goes right to the top.” He smiled, his hand tightening on her shoulder. “I’m taking care of this young lady,” he said smoothly. “With my help she’ll be the toast of New York!”
    Despite Barone’s flashy good looks and intense masculinity, Lola knew he was a predator. She had learned to recognize the type when she was a girl. Her eyes caught those of her husband, and signaled her desire to leave.
    Mark took the cue and said, “Well, it’s been good to meet all of you, but we must be going.”
    Andy looked up with surprise, for he was having a good time, but Esther and her mother nodded assent.
    Lola waited for Barney to come to her, but when he didn’t, she walked over and put her hand on his arm. “Barney, we’ve missed you so much.” When he made no response, she added, “Your father is being transferred to California. He doesn’t know for how long. Why don’t you come with us?”
    Barney’s eyes met hers; then he shook his head. “Don’t see how I could do that.”
    Lola wanted to say more, to coax him, but it was too public. Mark rescued her by saying, “How about next Friday, Barney? Come out for supper.”
    “Got a fight in Troy,” Barney muttered. He offered no more, and an embarrassed silence filtered over the group.
    “Well, brother,” Andy said quickly, “I’ll come down and cheer you on.” He was quick-witted