of his mother. Perhaps, after it was all over and
their debt had been paid, he would tell her how he got the money. He
couldn't tell her now. She had even tried to persuade him to stop boxing
for exercise and if she thought for a moment that he had arranged to
fight for money----

A fist thudded against his jaw. Absorbed in his thoughts he had left an
opening and the boy in the ring with him was quick to take advantage of
it. Instinctively he "covered," bending over with his arms wrapped
around his head and body for protection until his brain cleared.

Then, savagely, he tore into the boy before him, jabbing him swiftly
with his left glove and suddenly sending over his right with a snap. The
boy sank to the floor.

"That's enough, Gallant," admonished Blake. "Take it easy."

He lifted the boy to his feet.

As he pounded at the punching bag a few minutes later he promised
himself that this would be his one and only fight in a ring, for his
mother's sake.

That night, when he left for Vernon, he told her his first deliberate
lie.

* * * * *

He was in his corner. A scrawny youth with a twisted nose, a jersey
sweater and a husky voice was tying on his gloves.

"Wot's your name, kid?"

The announcer was bending over him.

"Gallant," he answered, after hesitating. The announcer turned and
crossed to the opposite corner of the ring and John's eyes followed him.
He saw his opponent, a thick-shouldered Mexican, with flashing black
eyes, gleaming white teeth, a broad, deep chest tapering to a slender
waist.

The Mexican returned his appraising look, and sneered.

Arc lamps threw a heated white light down to the canvas floor of the
ring. The chatter and rumble of voices came up from the crowd. He
looked out past the ropes and saw faces--hundreds of them--dimly through
clouds of tobacco smoke. He could only distinguish those at the
ringside. He saw Charlie Chaplin, the famous film comedian, looking at
him. There was Jack Dempsey, the world's ring champion, towering up in
his seat. There was----

"Come on, kid," the announcer was calling to him from the center of the
ring.

John dropped his bathrobe from his shoulders and went forward.

"On my right--the Gallant kid," shouted the announcer, pausing for the
laugh that came up from the crowd.

"The what?" a voice asked.

"The Gallant kid, he calls himself," shouted back the announcer. "On my
left--Battling Rodriguez. One hundre