ome for you," instructed
her guide, pointing out a peep-hole arrangement in the wall of the room.

CHAPTER IV

She hurried to the peep-hole, and found herself against the ring. She
could see the whole of it, though part of the audience was shut off. The
ring was well lighted by an overhead cluster of patent gas-burners. The
front row of the men she had squeezed past, because of their paper and
pencils, she decided to be reporters from the local papers up-town. One
of them was chewing gum. Behind them, on the other two rows of seats,
she could make out firemen from the near-by engine-house and several
policemen in uniform. In the middle of the front row, flanked by the
reporters, sat the young chief of police. She was startled by catching
sight of Mr. Clausen on the opposite side of the ring. There he sat,
austere, side-whiskered, pink and white, close up against the front of
the ring. Several seats farther on, in the same front row, she
discovered Silverstein, his weazen features glowing with anticipation.

A few cheers heralded the advent of several young fellows, in
shirt-sleeves, carrying buckets, bottles, and towels, who crawled through
the ropes and crossed to the diagonal corner from her. One of them sat
down on a stool and leaned back against the ropes. She saw that he was
bare-legged, with canvas shoes on his feet, and that his body was swathed
in a heavy white sweater. In the meantime another group had occupied the
corner directly against her. Louder cheers drew her attention to it, and
she saw Joe seated on a stool still clad in the bath robe, his short
chestnut curls within a yard of her eyes.

A young man, in a black suit, with a mop of hair and a preposterously
tall starched collar, walked to the centre of the ring and held up his
hand.

"Gentlemen will please stop smoking," he said.

His effort was applauded by groans and cat-calls, and she noticed with
indignation that nobody stopped smoking. Mr. Clausen held a burning
match in his fingers while the announcement was being made, and then
calmly lighted his cigar. She felt that she hated him in that moment.
How was her Joe to fight in such an atmosphere? She could scarcely
breathe herself, and she was only sitting down.

The announcer came over to Joe. He stood up. His bath robe fell away
from him, and he stepped forth to the centre of the ring, naked save for
the low canvas shoes and a narrow hip-cloth of white. Genevieve'