ily with
his back toward the box in which the Van Wyck girl was sitting. If
their glances had met, I did not notice. For all that I knew. Jerry
might have been unaware that she was in the house. He did not look
around in a search for her and seemed totally absorbed in his
instructions from Flynn, who stood outside the ropes just behind him
whispering continuously in his ear, Jerry nodding from time to time
and glancing across the ring to Clancy's corner, where the superbeast
was sprawled, his long arms extended upon the ropes. Spatola and the
black Swede were seeing to Jerry's gloves and looking over every
detail of the corner with careful eyes.

The referee called the two men to the center of the ring and gave them
some final instructions, to which they nodded assent, and they had
hardly returned to their corners when the gong clanged, stools and
paraphernalia were whipped out of the ring, the seconds and trainers
crouched outside and the fight was on. As the men came together the
disparity in their sizes became less marked for, while Clancy was the
shorter, he made up by his huge bulk what he lacked in height. He was
a dangerous man, but there was no timidity in Jerry's eyes and he came
forward sparring carefully, gliding backward and forward feeling out
the other man's length and speed. Clancy's left grazed Jerry's ear and
the boy countered lightly. His color was rising now and his eyes were
sparkling. It was good, it was a game he loved. The moment of stage
fright had passed. He had forgotten the crowd. His foot-work was fast
and made Clancy seem almost sluggish by comparison. That was the
danger. Would he waste himself too early? Ten rounds! Not too long for
Jerry, if the other didn't land dangerously and more often than he.
Clancy played for the head, and caught the boy fairly on the jaw, but
got a blow in the ribs that made him grunt. Jerry did most of the
leading, ducking a vicious swing of Clancy's right, that made the
Sailor look foolish, and brought a roar of delight from the crowd.
Clancy grinned cheerfully and came on, stabbing with his long left arm
at Jerry's head, but getting only his trouble for his pains. At the
close of the round the honors were even, and both were smiling in
their corners.

"He's got the science," said the optimist next door, "a pretty piece
o' work--very pretty."

"Just you wait, Petey," said the stout man, while behind us an
Irishman shouted, "Get them green tights workin', Cla