m the hat full of money.

He felt the tears coming back in his eyes.

"I don't--I can't----" he said hoarsely.

"Oh, yes, you can," interrupted Murray. "You take it and forget about
it."

The crowd cheered. A thick-shouldered individual pushed himself through
the ropes into the ring.

"For the keed, Meester Murray," said the newcomer, handing him a $20
bill. "Hee's a gude keed, maybe I help."

It was Battling Rodriguez. He crossed over and taking John's hand
grinned out at the crowd.

John felt the tears coming again and was thankful when Murray led him to
a corner and helped him down out of the ring.

"One of the newspaper men wants to speak to you," he said. "Here's your
man, Morton."

He shook hands with the newspaper man.

"You're not a fighter by profession, though you're game enough to be a
champion. How are you fixed for a job?" asked Morton.

"I need one," John replied.

"Tell you what you do, then," said the other, who seemed to take John's
answer for granted. "You come down and see me tomorrow and I'll see if I
can't find something for you to do. How would you like to get into
newspaper work?"

How would he like it? John felt that nothing in the world would he like
better.

"Tomorrow, then, ask for me," said Morton, turning to watch the two
boxers who entered the ring to fight the main event.

As he went up the aisle men reached out and shook hands with him. Some
of them dropped money into the hat brimming with bills and coins that he
still held in his hand. He filled his pockets with the money and handed
the hat to Murphy to be returned to that prince of men, Charlie Murray.

* * * * *

With the money given him by the crowd, the $20 bill Battling Rodriguez
added to it and the $50 he received as the loser's end of the purse in
his bout, he had more than $625 as he boarded the car from Vernon to the
city to return home. His happiness was dimmed, however, by the thought
of facing his mother, who, he knew, would be waiting up for him.

When he transferred at Seventh and Spring streets and boarded another
car a woman gasped at the sight of his face. Murphy had used every trick
known to a professional second to doctor his battered features, but
nothing could hide the swollen lips, the cut over his eye and the eye
that was puffed so that there was only a thin slit between the lids to
see through.

He decided that it would be easier upon his mother for him to te