"Look here," I says. "You'll win on the bit, but, Kid, don't try to call the round on this guy; don't do it! For one thing, he'll be in there to stay, and they's nothin' in the world harder to stop than a tough tramp which won't try—won't open up, but just dogs it to keep on his feet for a certain number of frames. He'll curl up in a knot and you'll break your hands on his head—you'll never see his jaw from the first bell! If you got to bet at all, bet ten grands—ten thousand bucks, that's—"
"I'll bet it all—minus yours if you want your share taken out first!" he interrupts coldly. "Your confidence in me is certainly encouraging. Just figure how much you have coming, and—"
"Oh, shoot the piece as far as I'm concerned," I says. "You know I'm with you whether school keeps or not. But, look here, we both know you'll murder this goof, but suppose you can't knock him stiff for seven rounds, even—why, you're broke, ain't you? Ain't you slipped your old man the rest of your roll?"
"Yes," he says. "I have at this minute about five thousand dollars. The rest I've given father, and he has it tied up in that oil stock—which means that's gone! It's all or nothing this time. I'll show them whether or not I'm through as a fighter—I'll step out of that ring still champion and worth half a million, or just a heavyweight boxer without a penny, one or the other. Eh—good night!"
With that he slams out of the room.
The next afternoon we have two callers before train time. One is Jimmy McManus, the promoter. After
