our when we should go to
the Garden. We had reached the coffee, of which we were much in need,
when there was a ring at the bell and Ballard Senior came into the
room, a copy of the _Despatch_ in his hand.

"Have you seen this?" he snapped.

"We have," said Jack with an assumption of calmness.

"It's a lie?"

"No. It's the truth."

The old man raged the length of the room and turned.

"Do you mean that you've let this thing go on without trying to stop
it--without letting me know--"

"We did try to stop it. There was no use in letting you know. Jerry's
mind was made up."

"Jerry! The fool is ruining himself--and us. The thing must be
stopped--at once."

Jack smiled coolly. "I don't see how you're going to do that."

The father stamped the length of the room again. "I'll show you. Where
is Clancy?"

"I don't know. You'll find him at Madison Square Garden about ten."

"But where is he now?" he snapped.

Jack shrugged. "I don't know."

"Well, you must come with me. I've got to find him."

"What are you going to do?"

"Buy him off. This match can't take place."

"Do you mean that?" asked Jack with a smile.

"Did you ever know me to waste words?--Come!"

However lenient Henry Ballard had been to his son, at that moment the
parental word was law, and Jack obeyed, taking up his hat and gloves,
and laying a pink ticket on the table.

"Yours, Pope. I'll see you later."

And they went out hastily, the old man from beginning to end having
ignored me completely. I sank in a chair, my gaze shifting from the
ticket to the brandy bottle and cigarettes. I wanted to do
something--I didn't know what. I hadn't drunk or smoked for twelve
years, but that' night I did both. The brandy steadied, the cigarette
quieted my nerves. I sat there alone over the half-cleared dinner
table, resolutely impelling calmness. The ticket stared at me, a
symbol of Jerry's destiny.... My thought shifted curiously to the
placid Miss Gore. Whatever Fate had in store for Jerry, this phase of
his life would pass as she had said, the mind would survive. Something
told me that tonight would mark a turning point in Jerry's career--how
or what I could not know, but for the first time I realized how deeply
I was committed to Jerry's plans. I wanted the bout to take place. I
wanted to see it--win or lose I was committed to it and to Jerry.

It had grown dark outside. I rose, slowly putting the ticket in my
pocket, and went out. The night wa