t him out of your sight."

"I heardja, boss, I heardja," said Murphy.

And Murray hurried out, leaving John wondering, in Murphy's hands.

* * * * *

It was just before the main event that Murray came down the aisle and
climbed into the ring, brushing the referee announcer, seconds and
others into the corners. He stood in the center of the ring and held up
his hand for silence. The crowd quieted.

"What is it, Charlie?" someone shouted.

"It's this, boys," he said. "I've just had a talk with the Gallant kid,
who was knocked kicking a few minutes ago by Battling Rodriguez. You saw
the fight he put up and you know it's only a good, game kid that can
fight like that.

"I don't know how many of you saw it, but the Gallant kid--that's his
real name, John Gallant--was crying when he went out of this ring and he
wasn't bawling because he got licked, either.

"I'll tell you what he told me back there in the dressing rooms. Do you
know why he was here fighting, tonight? He was here to get enough money
to pay for his father's funeral. He had to have the money given to the
winner and he lost. He didn't tell his poor little mother he was coming
out here. He wanted to surprise her.

"Now, boys, the only surprise he'll take home to her is a battered face
unless you want to surprise him with--"

A silver dollar spun through the smoke-filled air and hit the canvas at
Murray's feet. That started it. For a full two minutes the air was thick
with flying coins. They clinked and rolled around in the ring. Bills
weighted with coins caromed along the canvas floor.

Murray and a few others collected the money and counted it, standing in
the ring.

"Is it enough?" asked a voice from the crowd.

Murray looked up with a broad smile. His hat, held in his hands, was
brimming with the money picked from the floor of the ring.

"Five hundred and fifty-six dollars and sixty cents," he said.

"Where's the kid?" someone demanded.

"That's the idea, show us the kid," shouted the crowd.

* * * * *

When John was brought back into the ring, embarrassed, awkward, trying
to smile through his swollen lips, the "house" was quiet. Murphy pushed
him to the center, where Murray was waiting for him.

"That's for you, Mr. Gallant, with the compliments of the boys out here
who know a good, game kid when they see one and whose hearts are always
in the right place," he said, handing hi