did so as surely upon his opponent.

The derisive shouts with which the men had hailed every knock-down blow
early in the fight soon subsided, and exclamations of admiration at the
pluck with which Jack, reeling and confused, came up time after time
took their place.

"It be a foight arter all," one of them said at the end of the first ten
minutes. "I wouldn't lay more nor ten to one now."

"I'll take as many tens to one as any o' ye like to lay," Bill Haden
said, but no one cared to lay even these odds.

At the end of half an hour the betting was only two to one. Jack, who
had always "given his head," that is, had always ducked so as to receive
the blows on the top of his head, where they were supposed to do less
harm, was as strong as he was after the first five minutes. Tom Walker
was panting with fatigue, wild and furious at his want of success over
an adversary he had despised.

The cheers of the lads, silent at first, rose louder with each round,
and culminated in a yell of triumph when, at the end of fifty-five
minutes, Tom Walker, having for the third time in succession been
knocked down, was absolutely unable to rise at the call of "time" to
renew the fight.

[Illustration: JACK IS VICTORIOUS.]

Never had an event created such a sensation in Stokebridge. At first the
news was received with absolute incredulity, but when it became
thoroughly understood that Bill Haden's boy, Jack Simpson, had licked
Tom Walker, the wonder knew no bounds. So struck were some of the men
with Jack's courage and endurance, that the offer was made to him that,
if he liked to go to Birmingham and put himself under that noted
pugilist the "Chicken," his expenses would be paid, and L50 be
forthcoming for his first match. Jack, knowing that this offer was made
in good faith and with good intentions, and was in accordance with the
custom of mining villages, declined it courteously and thankfully, but
firmly, to the surprise and disappointment of his would-be backers, who
had flattered themselves that Stokebridge was going to produce a
champion middle-weight.

He had not come unscathed from the fight, for it proved that one of his
ribs had been broken by a heavy body hit; and he was for some weeks in
the hands of the doctor, and was longer still before he could again take
his place in the pit.

Bill Haden's pride in him was unbounded, and during his illness poor old
Flora, who seemed to recognize in him her champion, lay on his