Free The Iron Wagon by Al Lacy Page B

heavyweight fight was the last to take place that evening. When the bell rang for the first round in Paul’s fight with Bret, both fighters went at it, swinging fast and hard.
    It seemed pretty much an even match during rounds one and two, but in the third round, Paul got in an extra powerful left cross to Bret’s jaw, staggering him. As Paul came after him, Bret tried to clinch to give himself time to clear his head, but Paul speedily evaded the clinch and hooked a mighty right hook to the jaw and jarred his bigger opponent to his heels.
    Bursting with rage, Bret rushed back, swinging both fists as hard as he could. Paul dodged the fists and popped him hard on the nose, sending him into another stagger. Bret attempted to retaliate but could get no power into his blows.
    Paul squared his jaw, drawing every ounce of strength he could into his shoulders and, transferring the strength into his arms, pounded his opponent with four exploding blows, knocking him against the ropes.
    Bret hit the ropes hard, bounced back, stumbling over his own feet, and fell facedown on the canvas floor of the ring. He was out cold.
    The referee counted him out. Cheers from all over the gymnasium rang out as the referee raised Paul’s right hand into the air, stating emphatically that he was the winner by a knockout. The cheers grew even louder when he also declared Paul Brockman the heavyweight champion of the Central Colorado High School League.
    While conversations took place all over the gymnasium, the boxers went to the locker rooms to change their clothes. When Paul reentered the gymnasium in his regular clothes, he saw that Bret Watson was still in the ring. He was now on his feet, but a doctor from Mile High Hospital was examining him to make sure he was all right.
    Paul’s parents and sisters stood nearby talking to the Baylesses and the Langfords. Paul headed toward them, but he was quickly stopped by some of his schoolmates who were full of admiration for him.
    The boys were congratulating Paul on winning the heavyweight championship when Paul noticed a husky man stomping toward him, anger blazing in his eyes and on his reddened face. Bret Watson looked like him. He had to Bret’s father, who was the owner of Watson Feed and Grain Company in Golden.
    Gus Watson drew up, glaring at Paul, the hostility in his eyes like the flare of a lightning bolt. Baring his teeth, the big man roared, “You didn’t have to hit my son so hard, you thug!”
    Paul felt his nerves twitching all over his body but kept alevel tone in his voice. “Mr. Watson, in order to win a fight, it takes hard punches.”
    Gus, who was much heavier than Paul, angrily swung at him.
    Paul dodged the punch and stepped back. “Sir, I don’t want to fight you. Boxing is a sport and should be treated as such. I only did what I had to do in order to win the match against your son. Anyone who saw the fight would agree it was a fair and honest match.”
    “Bah! You didn’t have to hit Bret so hard!”
    Not far away, John Brockman was talking to a small group of people, but he quickly picked up on the fury of the man speaking to his son and the consternation on Paul’s face. John excused himself and hurried toward his son, while a small group of high school boys looked on.
    The big angry man charged at Paul, fists clenched. “I’m gonna beat you to a pulp for what you did to my boy!”
    Paul dodged the first fist that came toward his face, then evaded the second one adeptly. He smashed Gus’s right jaw with a powerful left hook, which stopped the big man in his tracks. Paul closed in on him, whipping a powerful right hook into Watson’s midsection, causing him to double over, then followed with a dynamite left to the jaw. Watson went down hard on the gymnasium floor, out cold.
    John moved in and laid a firm hand on Paul’s shoulder. “Don’t feel bad, son. You had to put him down. He gave you no choice.”
    Paul looked at his father and nodded. “He sure didn’t,