earn to handle his mitts
scientifically--people of the West Side do not have hands; they are
equipped by Nature with mitts and dukes. A few have paws and flippers.

He had no opportunity to realize his new dream for several years; but
when he was about seventeen a neighbor's son surprised his little world
by suddenly developing from an unknown teamster into a locally famous
light-weight.

The young man never had been affiliated with the gang, as his escutcheon
was defiled with a record of steady employment. So Billy had known
nothing of the sparring lessons his young neighbor had taken, or of the
work he had done at the down-town gymnasium of Larry Hilmore.

Now it happened that while the new light-weight was unknown to the
charmed circle of the gang, Billy knew him fairly well by reason of
the proximity of their respective parental back yards, and so when the
glamour of pugilistic success haloed the young man Billy lost no time in
basking in the light of reflected glory.

He saw much of his new hero all the following winter. He accompanied him
to many mills, and on one glorious occasion occupied a position in the
coming champion's corner. When the prize fighter toured, Billy continued
to hang around Hilmore's place, running errands and doing odd jobs, the
while he picked up pugilistic lore, and absorbed the spirit of the
game along with the rudiments and finer points of its science, almost
unconsciously. Then his ambition changed. Once he had longed to shine as
a gunman; now he was determined to become a prize fighter; but the
old gang still saw much of him, and he was a familiar figure about the
saloon corners along Grand Avenue and Lake Street.

During this period Billy neglected the box cars on Kinzie Street,
partially because he felt that he was fitted for more dignified
employment, and as well for the fact that the railroad company had
doubled the number of watchmen in the yards; but there were times when
he felt the old yearning for excitement and adventure. These times were
usually coincident with an acute financial depression in Billy's change
pocket, and then he would fare forth in the still watches of the night,
with a couple of boon companions and roll a souse, or stick up a saloon.

It was upon an occasion of this nature that an event occurred which was
fated later to change the entire course of Billy Byrne's life. Upon
the West Side the older gangs are jealous of the sanctity of their own
territory.