s,
before Sally had had time to grasp the fact that this work of art was a
gift and no mere loan. "Here, Bugs--wantcher."

A youth enveloped in a bath-robe, who had been talking to a group of
admirers near the ring, turned, started languidly towards them, then,
seeing Sally, quickened his pace. He was an admirer of the sex.

Mr. Burrowes did the honours.

"Bugs, this is Miss Nicholas, come to see you work out. I have been
telling her she's going to have a treat." And to Sally. "Shake hands
with Bugs Butler, ma'am, the coming lightweight champion of the world."

Mr. Butler's photograph, Sally considered, had flattered him. He was, in
the flesh, a singularly repellent young man. There was a mean and cruel
curve to his lips and a cold arrogance in his eye; a something dangerous
and sinister in the atmosphere he radiated. Moreover, she did not like
the way he smirked at her.

However, she exerted herself to be amiable.

"I hope you are going to win, Mr. Butler," she said.

The smile which she forced as she spoke the words removed the coming
champion's doubts, though they had never been serious. He was convinced
now that he had made a hit. He always did, he reflected, with the girls.
It was something about him. His chest swelled complacently beneath the
bath-robe.

"You betcher," he asserted briefly.

Mr. Burrows looked at his watch.

"Time you were starting, Bugs."

The coming champion removed his gaze from Sally's face, into which he
had been peering in a conquering manner, and cast a disparaging glance
at the audience. It was far from being as large as he could have
wished, and at least a third of it was composed of non-payers from the
newspapers.

"All right," he said, bored.

His languor left him, as his gaze fell on Sally again, and his spirits
revived somewhat. After all, small though the numbers of spectators
might be, bright eyes would watch and admire him.

"I'll go a couple of rounds with Reddy for a starter," he said. "Seen
him anywheres? He's never around when he's wanted."

"I'll fetch him," said Mr. Burrowes. "He's back there somewheres."

"I'm going to show that guy up this afternoon," said Mr. Butler coldly.
"He's been getting too fresh."

The manager bustled off, and Bugs Butler, with a final smirk, left Sally
and dived under the ropes. There was a stir of interest in the audience,
though the newspaper men, blase through familiarity, exhibited no
emotion. Presently Mr. Burrowes reappea