," he repeated with more unction than before.

"Maybe," said the other, "but I want to be shown. There was another
leggy feller--the freckled one."

"Fitz--but Fitz was a _fighter_."

"Well, I like his looks--good-lookin' feller, ain't he?"

"Aw! This ain't no beauty parlor. He's got a glass jaw, I'll bet. 'S a
goldfish, I tell you. The sea lion will eat him alive--_eat him
alive_!"

I don't know why the reiteration of this phrase of the fat man
irritated me, but it did exceedingly, and I turned around and glared
at him, a sharp retort on the tip of my tongue. Ballard's fingers
closed on my arm and I was silent. But the fat man's glances and mine
had met and held each other.

"What's the matter, perfessor?" he asked testily. "Friend of yours,
eh? Oh, well--no harm done. But if you'd like to back your judgment
with a little something--say fifty--"

But I had already turned my back on the fellow.

In the ring the men had thrown aside their dressing-gowns and the
opposing seconds were examining the bandages upon their hands. Clancy
wore bright green trunks, which if his name had failed would have
betrayed his lineage, and his great chest and arms were covered with
designs in tattoo. Jerry wore dark trunks. And as his wonderful arms
and torso were exposed to view, a murmur of approval went over the
audience. In spite of his training in the open his skin was still very
white beside the bronzed figure of his adversary, but the muscles
rippled smoothly and strongly under the fair skin--and bulked large at
thigh and forearm as he moved his limbs. It was not the strong man's
figure nor yet, like Clancy's, the stocky, thickly built structure of
the professional fighter's, yet it was so solid, so admirably compact
that his great height was unnoticeable. I could see from the
expressions upon the faces of those about me and the calls from the
seats behind us, that Jerry's appearance had already gained the
respect of the crowd, some members of which were already hailing him
by his first name. "Good boy, Jerry," they cried, or "All right, old
boy. You've got the goods--but look out for his right."

Even the stout person beside me was silent and I heard nothing more
about the goldfish. Fortunately for him, and for me, I suspect, for
had he repeated his phrase, I might have brained him with a chair.

The preliminary conferences at an end, the principals took their
corners, fresh ones not used in the preliminaries, Jerry luck