〃This is an extra hack； gentlemen；〃 he said loudly。 〃Little David versus Sandspur。 Southern Conference rules will prevail。 No time limit； and short gaffs。 Little David is owned by Mr。 Jack Burke of Burke Farms； Kissimmee； Florida。 He's an Ace cock； with eight wins and will be two years old in November。 Little David will be handled by Mr。 Ralph Hansen of Burke Farms。〃
The crowd gave Little David a nice hand； and Mr。 Middleton continued。
〃Sandspur is owned by Mr。 Frank Mansfield of Mansfield Farms； Ocala； Florida； and he will handle his own chicken。 Sandspur is a five…time winner and a year and a half old。 Both cocks will fight at four pounds even。〃
Sandspur got a better hand than Little David； and the applause was sustained by the two Dade County breeders who wanted him to beat Burke's cock。 Mr。 Middleton examined Sandspur's heels and patted me on the shoulder。 Many cockers resent the referee's examination of a cock's heels； but I never have。 A conscientious referee can help you by making this final check。 Once the fight has started and your cock loses a metal spur； it cannot be replaced。
As Mr。 Middleton crossed the pit to examine Little David； I watched the flying fingers of the bettors。 The majority of the betting at cockfights is done by fingers…one finger for one dollar； five for five dollars； and then on up into the multiples of five…and I was an expert in this type of betting。 I had learned finger betting in the Philippines when I was in the army and didn't understand Tagalog； and I had also used the same system in Puerto Rico； where I didn't understand Spanish very well。 Little David was the favorite； getting two…to…one； and in some cases three…to…one odds。
Bill Sanders； Jack Burke and the two Miami gamblers were in a huddle next to the canvas wall。 Both gamblers were staring across the pit at Sandspur while Sanders and Burke talked at the same time。 Sanders had a roll of money in his hand and was talking fast； although I couldn't hear his voice from where I was sitting beside the pit。
A fistfight broke out on the top tier of seats between two fruit tramps； and one of them was knocked off backward and fell heavily to the ground。 Before he could climb back into the stands； the state trooper had an armiock on him and made him sit down on the other side of the pit。 When I looked back to Bill Sanders； he was smiling and holding up three fingers。
So Bill had got three…to…one。 That was good enough for me。 When Sandspur won； I'd be 2；250 ahead from the Miami gamblers； plus 1；000 more from Jack Burke。 3；250。 This would be more than enough money to see me through the Southern Conference season； and enough to purchase six badly needed fighting cocks besides。
〃Get ready！〃 Mr。 Middleton yelled。 I stood up； stepped over the edge of the pit； and put my toes on the back score。 The back score lines placed us eight feet away from each other。 Ralph Hansen； holding Little David under the chest with one hand； called impatiently to the refereee。
〃How about letting us bill them first； Mr。 Middleton？〃
Billing is an essential prelude to pitting。 Ed Middleton didn't need the reminder。 〃Bill your cocks；〃 he growled。
We cradled our fighters over our left arms； holding their feet； and stood sideways on our center scores； two feet apart； so the cocks could peck at each other。 These cocks had never seen each other before； but they were mortal enemies。 Ed allowed us about thirty seconds for the teasing and then told us to get ready。 Ralph backed to his score and I returned to mine。 I squatted on my heels and set the straining Sandspur with his feet on the score。 The cocks were exactly eight feet apart。
I watched Mr。 Middleton's lips。 This was a trick I had practiced for hours on end and I was good at it。 Before a man can say the letter 〃P〃 he must first press his lips。 There isn't any other way he can say it。 The signal to release the cocks is when the referee shouts 〃Pit〃 or 〃Pit your cocks！〃 The handler who releases the tail of his cock first on the utterance of the letter 〃P〃 has a split…second advantage over his rival。 And in the South； where 〃Pit〃 is often a two…syllable word； 〃Pee…it；〃 my timing was perfect。
〃Pit！〃 Mr。 Middleton announced； and before the word was out of his mouth Sandspur was in the air and halfway to Little David。 The cocks met in midair； both of them shuffling with blurred yellow feet； and then they dropped to the ground。 Neither cock had managed to get above the other。
With new respect for each other； the two birds circled； heads held low； watching each other warily。 Little David feinted cleverly with a short rush； but Sandspur wasn't fooled。 He held his ground； and Burke's cock retreated with his wings fluttering at the tips。
As he dropped back； Sandspur rose with a short flight and savagely hooked the gaff of his right leg into Little David's wing。 The point of the heel was banged solidly into the bone and Sandspur couldn't get it dislodged。 He pecked savagely at Little David's head； and hit the top of the downed cock's dubbed head hard with his bill open。 。 。 too hard。
The upper section of Sandspur's bill broke off cleanly at the doctored crack I had made。 A bubble of blood formed； and Sandspur stopped pecking。 Both cocks struggled to break away from each other； but the right spur was still stuck； and all Sandspur could do was hop up and down in place on his free leg。 I looked at Mr。 Middleton。
〃Handle！〃 the judge shouted。 〃Thirty seconds！〃
A moment later I disentangled the gaff from Little David's wing and retreated to my starting line。 I put Sandspur's head in my mouth and sucked the blood from his broken beak。 I licked the feathers of his head back into place and spat as much saliva as I could into his open mouth。 For the remaining seconds I had left I sucked life into his clipped b。 The b was much too pale。 。
〃Get ready！〃 I held Sandspur by the tail on the line。 〃Pit your cocks！〃
Instead of flying into the air； Sandspur circled for the right wall。 Little David turned in midair； landed running； and chased my cock into the far corner。 Sandspur turned to fight； and the cocks met head on； but my injured bird was forced back by the fierceness of Little David's rush。
On his back； Sandspur hit his opponent twice in the chest； drawing blood both times； and then Little David was above him in the air and cutting at his head with both spurs。 A sharp gaff entered Sandspur's right eye； and he died as the needle point pierced his central nervous system。 Little David strutted back and forth； pecked twice at my lifeless cock； and then crowed his victory。
〃The winner is Mr。 Burke's Ace；〃 Mr。 Middleton announced； as a formality。 〃Twenty…eight seconds in the second pitting。〃
All I had left was a folded ten…dollar bill in my watch pocket and one dead chicken。
2
There was a burial hole in the marshy ground； about four feet square and three feet deep； on the far side of the parking area。 Water was seeping visibly into the mucky pit； and the dead roosters in the bottom had begun to float。
I removed the gaffs from my dead cock's spurs and added his body to the floating pile of dead chickens。 As I put the heels away in my gaff case； Bill Sanders joined me at the edge of the munal burying pit。
〃I just wanted to let you know that I got all your dough down； Frank；〃 he said。 〃Every dollar at three…to…one； and there's nothing left。〃
I nodded。
〃Tough； Frank； but my money was riding on Sandspur with yours。〃
I shrugged and emptied the peat moss out of the aluminum coop into the hole on top of the dead chickens。
〃You're going to be all right； aren't you？ I mean； you'll be on the Southern Conference circuit this year； and all？〃
I nodded and shook hands with Sanders。 As I looked down at Bill's bald head； I noticed that the top was badly sunburned and starting to peel。 The little gambler never wore a hat。
〃Okay； Frank。 I'll probably see you in Biloxi。〃
I clapped Bill on the shoulder to squeeze out a farewell。 He went over to the blue Chrysler convertible and started talking to the blonde。 She had evidently recovered from her upset stomach。 She had remade her face；