t. An' to look into the
eyes of a brave man that's sick with pain, an' love 'm, an' see love
in them eyes of his, an' then have to go on givin' 'm pain--call that
sport? I can't see it. But the crowd's got its money on us. We don't
count. We've sold ourselves for a hundred bucks, an' we gotta deliver
the goods.

"Let me tell you, Saxon, honest to God, that was one of the times I
wanted to go through the ropes an' drop them fans a-yellin' for blood
an' show 'em what blood is.

"'For God's sake finish me, Bill,' Bill says to me in that clinch; 'put
her over an' I'll fall for it, but I can't lay down.'

"D'ye want to know? I cry there, right in the ring, in that clinch. The
weeps for me. 'I can't do it, Bill,' I whisper back, hangin' onto'm like
a brother an' the referee ragin' an' draggin' at us to get us apart, an'
all the wolves in the house snarlin'.

"'You got 'm!' the audience is yellin'. 'Go in an' finish 'm!' 'The hay
for him, Bill; put her across to the jaw an' see 'm fall!'

"'You got to, Bill, or you're a dog,' Bill says, lookin' love at me in
his eyes as the referee's grip untangles us clear.

"An' them wolves of fans yellin': 'Fake! Fake! Fake!' like that, an'
keepin' it up.

"Well, I done it. They's only that way out. I done it. By God, I done
it. I had to. I feint for 'm, draw his left, duck to the right past it,
takin' it across my shoulder, an come up with my right to his jaw. An'
he knows the trick. He's hep. He's beaten me to it an' blocked it with
his shoulder a thousan' times. But this time he don't. He keeps himself
wide open on purpose. Blim! It lands. He's dead in the air, an' he goes
down sideways, strikin' his face first on the rosin-canvas an' then
layin' dead, his head twisted under 'm till you'd a-thought his neck was
broke. ME--I did that for a hundred bucks an' a bunch of stiffs I'd
be ashamed to wipe my feet on. An' then I pick Bill up in my arms an'
carry'm to his corner, an' help bring'm around. Well, they ain't no kick
comin'. They pay their money an' they get their blood, an' a knockout.
An' a better man than them, that I love, layin' there dead to the world
with a skinned face on the mat."

For a moment he was still, gazing straight before him at the horses, his
face hard and angry. He sighed, looked at Saxon, and smiled.

"An' I quit the game right there. An' Billy Murphy's laughed at me for
it. He still follows it. A side-line, you know, because he works at a
good trade. Bu