River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1902-02-27
The Great Battle
I'm
Pulliarrl' S Cellar

IA
and stee. factors. had no trouble in get
ting Dexter a place with the Pulllam
Sheet Iron and Metal company, and
therefore, in the shipping-room Of the
grimy institution, Dexter began his ca
reer S a business man. His duties were
neither picturesque nor interesting to
him, but as he was, to use his own
words, "strong with old man Pulliam,
and as the other clerks and employees
liked him. he managed to exc out fair
Iy comfortable existence on $12 per
week.
Tt soon became evident about the
Pulliam establishment that Dexter
was ga bug" on athletics. He rugged up
a ceiling and a punching bag in the eel
lar, and there during the noon hour and
at sundry intervals when business was
dull he was wont to exhibit his prowess
before the admiring teamsters, porters
and junior clerks. He brought down
set of four boxing gloves, and within
six onths after his arrival the athletic
microbe had attacked half of the men
and boys in the house. Dexter came to
be recognized as an authority on all
sports. and all hands agreed that as
boxer she was craclerjack."
Being as democratic as any sport"
could desire, Dexter made no distinc-
tion of race, color or social standing
when it came to test of physical ex-
ceilence, and pretty soon the teamsters
and porters, white and black, began to
appear in the front office with black
eyes and swollen noses. Old man Pull
liam, happening to visit the cellar one
afternoon, came bump against Trayers
and "Possum,' gigantic negro team
ster, who were at that moment so alb
sorbed in a bout at fsticuffs that
neither of them noticed the presence of
the boss. Half a dozen employees who
surrounded the ring saw him, however,
and, becoming suddenly silent, snealed
away one by one till Dexter and his an
tagonist were left alone in the presence
of Mr. Pulliam.
That worthy employer stood in the
shadow of stack of sheet iron long
enough to see the round end, but he
didn't say word nor disclose his pres
ence, and a moment later, when he re-
appeared in the front office, there was
q broad smile of amusement on his red
face. When young Travers heard that
'the old man" had seen him fighting,
or boxing, in the cellar he decided to
maintain posture of mastery inactiv-
ity till Pulliam either reprimanded him
or forgot the incident. A week passed
without a word from the front office,
and then the young athlete sailed in
for all the sport he could crowd into
a working day. Discipline in the store
went to the dogs, and Dexter himself
became more of hindrance than hep
to his employers.
He began to get recruits from the
front office. Bookkeepers, cashiers
and stenographers, who had heard
whispers of the "doings" in the rear
cellar, began to wander thither during
the midday recess, first as spectators
and later as participants in the ever
lasting game of boxing with big soft
gloves. Some of them had learned to
box and some wanted to "try it,
One day as he sauntered past the long
row of desks in his office Mr.. Pulliam
was astonished to notice that his head
cashiers left eye was overhung by
that blue and dubious protrusion
known to the sportive fraternity as
"a shanty." Two desks away book
keepers nose showed unmistakable
signs of having undergone fierce i'm
pact with some moving, solid sub
stance An inspection Of dozen other
e
skinned foreheads, split lips and dis
colored bumps.
"Whew!" whistled the old gentle
man to himself as he pushed the cleo
tric button that summoned the head
shipping clerk.
tom" began Mr.. Pulliam when
that sedate and pallid clerk appeared,
show is young Travers getting on?"
''Do you mean in business or in box
ing, sir?" asked Tom, his lean face
cracking in a honey smile.
"Just how is he getting on; is he
any good? Any better or worse than
when he started here?"
well, sir, they amt no doubt he's
easy the best boxer in the house. He's
licked everybody, that's put on TIL
gloves with him, an I understand he's
issued a challenge to fight any man in
the foundry acrost the alley. He's a
awful punisher, sir, and them left iabs
o. his is wonderful, sir, wonderful
Doesn't he do anything but box,
Tom?"
swell, sir, you see it's like this:
Travers don't have none too much time
for work. A man can't fight all COM
ers an be ready all the time if he's
got t. make out bills-lading and dray
tickets in between. O. course we can
get along without Travers, you know,
Mr.. Pulliam. In fact, we never did
need him, an j understood he was
took on, that is-well, sir, I supposed
you jest give him the job on account o.
old man IT,. <ers."
Mr.. Pulliam drummed on his desk
for minute and was silent.
"Tom, here's secret between you
and me-" he said at last. 81 want
young Travers to quit this boxing