Dunnigan was the first to see her hovering uncertainly upon
the edge of the crowd. Brandishing his crutch he howled into the ears
of those nearest him:

"Give th' lady a chanst! Come on, miss! He's _her_ man, an' God be
praised! she wants to see 'um foight!"

The men made a lane, and scarcely knowing what she did, Ethel found
herself standing beside the old Irishman, who had wormed his way to the
very front rank of the crowding circle. She stared in fascinated
terror, throwing back her veil for a clearer view, regardless of the
men who stared at _her_ in surprise and wondered at the whiteness of
her face.

Bill Carmody met Moncrossen's first rush with a quick, short jab that
reached the corner of his eye. With an almost imperceptible movement he
leaned to one side, and the flail-like swing of the huge boss's arm
passed harmlessly within an inch of his ear.

Moncrossen lost no time. Pivoting, he swung a terrific body blow which
glanced lightly against Bill's lowered shoulder, and the greener came
back with two stiff raps to the ear.

Again and again Moncrossen rushed his antagonist, lashing out with both
fists, but always the blows failed by a barely perceptible margin, and
Bill--always smiling, and without appreciable effort--stung him with
short, swift punches to the face.

And always he talked. Low and smooth his voice sounded between the thud
of blows and the heavy breathing of the big boss.

"Poor business, Moncrossen--poor judgment--for a fighting man. Save
your wind--take it easy, and you'll last longer--this is a _long_
fight, Moncrossen--take it slow--slow and steady."

The taunting voice was always in the boss's ears, goading him to blind
fury. He paused for breath, with guard uplifted, and in that moment
Bill Carmody saw for the first time the figure of his wife. For an
instant their eyes met, and then Moncrossen was at him again. But
Bill's low, taunting voice did not waver.

"That's better," he said, and moved his head to one side as a vicious
blow passed close. "And now, Moncrossen, I'm going to hit you on the
nose--I haven't hit you yet--those others were just to feel you out."

With an incredibly swift movement he swung clear from the shoulder.
There was the wicked, smashing sound of living flesh hard struck. The
big boss staggered backward, pawing the air, and the red blood spurted
from his flattened nose.

"That one is for trying to get Stromberg to file a link." Bill ducked a
lunging blow