ward Box B and into it. A large person in bright
blue shirt-sleeves, with a derby on the back of his head, received the
third blow intended for Anthony and returned it with interest, just as
that startled person was jammed against the rail.

From three different points, high-held night-sticks were pushing through
the surging crowd; and Johnson Boller, looking quickly at the storm
center, counted no less than eleven separate couples pounding one
another, and smiled as he jerked Anthony bodily over the rail and
hissed:

"Come on, you poor lunatic! Come on!"

"Johnson, upon my soul----" Anthony began.

"Never mind your soul! Get your body out of here before the cops find it
and club it to death for starting this rumpus!" Mr. Boller cried
agitatedly. "Look at that sergeant, Anthony! He's got his eye on you and
he's fighting his way over here! Now, you scoot down there, kid! Move!
Quick, before----"

"No! Come with us, boy!" Anthony said, somewhat disconcertingly.

"What for?" the boy inquired. "I want to watch this."

"You stay and watch it by all means!" Johnson Boller smiled quickly.
"You're perfectly safe, youngster; I was only fooling. Now you come this
way, Anthony, and----"

Anthony, unperturbed, laid a kindly hand on the youngster's shoulder.

"You'd better come with us, my son," said he. "They'll run you in for a
witness and you may be locked up for a week unless you have friends to
get you out."

This time he had startled the young man. Wide eyes turned and stared at
him and there was a distinct note of fright in the voice that said:

"What do you mean? Arrest me?"

"Of course, if you stay here," Anthony said. "Come with me and I'll take
care of you."

And then Johnson Boller had caught his arm and was dragging him away;
and Anthony, catching the willing arm of the boy, was dragging him
after. Around the side of the ring they sped, where an interested group
of fighters and trainers watched the melee; and, veering, on through a
small side door and into the night.

"Here's where the taxis wait," Mr. Boller said quickly. "Now, you beat
it straight down the street, kid, and----"

"We'll take this one," Anthony interrupted, as he jerked open the door
and thrust his bewildered charge inward. "Tell the man to take us home,
Johnson."

Johnson Boller complied with a grunt, slamming the door viciously as he
plumped into his own seat. The kid, prospective victim of Anthony's
latest notion, was still with