y
Clancy move warily. But one of Jerry's left-hand blows caught him
again, and he went half through the ropes.

It was here that Jerry earned the wild applause of the crowd by an act
of magnanimity that was nothing less than Quixotic. But it was like
Jerry. He wanted to take no unfair advantages. He bent forward,
lifting the upper rope, and helped Clancy into the ring. There the
round ended in a roar of cheering that did my heart and Jack's good to
hear.

But the thing was foolhardy. The man was not done yet, as Jerry was to
find out in a moment. I saw Flynn frowning and protesting in Jerry's
ear, for the boy had been set for a knockout and the bout in all
probability would have been ended. Jerry listened, his arms stretched
out along the ropes, smiling up at the glaring electric lights. He was
breathing convulsively and Spatola swung his towel furiously, fanning
the heavy air into the boy's gasping lungs. He had had all the
advantage so far and with good generalship could still win on points
if he fought his own battle and not Clancy's. But would he? I knew
what Flynn was saying to him, what he was warning him against. I had
heard the warning often in the bouts at the Manor. Failing in science
and skill Clancy would "slug" (Flynn's word, not mine), trusting to
the prodigious length of his arms, taking the punishment that came to
him, biding his time and the possible lucky blow which would turn the
tide in his favor.

I glanced at Clancy's corner. There was anxiety there. I think during
the seventh round, Clancy had seen his fifteen thousand going
a-glimmering and Riley was no less emphatic than Flynn. There were but
three more rounds--three rounds in which the Sailor could regain his
lost ground and the heavyweight laurels that seemed to be slipping
from him.

When the gong clanged, it was immediately to be seen that Clancy's
whole plan of battle had changed. From some hidden sources in that
great hulk of a body he drew new forces of energy. You will see the
same thing in any wild beast of the jungle, a hidden reserve of
nervous power and viciousness, most dangerous apparently when nearest
extinction. He was ugly--his jowls shot forward, his brow lowering,
his long arms shooting like pistons--a jungle beast at bay. Jerry
stopped his progress again--again--with straight thrusts and
uppercuts, but the man only covered up, crouched lower, and came on
again. Once he caught Jerry in the stomach and I saw the boy wince