"

"But, Billy, you told me long ago that fighting took the silk out of
you. That was why you'd quit it and stayed by teaming."

"Not this kind of fightin'," he answered. "I got this one all doped out.
I'll let 'm last till about the seventh. Not that it'll be necessary,
but just to give the audience a run for its money. Of course, I'll get a
lump or two, an' lose some skin. Then I'll time 'm to that glass jaw
of his an' drop 'm for the count. An' we'll be all packed up, an' next
mornin' we'll pull out. What d'ye say? Aw, come on."

Saturday night, two weeks later, Saxon ran to the door when the gate
clicked. Billy looked tired. His hair was wet, his nose swollen, one
cheek was puffed, there was skin missing from his ears, and both eyes
were slightly bloodshot.

"I 'm darned if that boy didn't fool me," he said, as he placed the roll
of gold pieces in her hand and sat down with her on his knees. "He's
some boy when he gets extended. Instead of stoppin' 'm at the seventh,
he kept me hustlin' till the fourteenth. Then I got 'm the way I said.
It's too bad he's got a glass jaw. He's quicker'n I thought, an' he's
got a wallop that made me mighty respectful from the second round--an'
the prettiest little chop an' come-again I ever saw. But that glass jaw!
He kept it in cotton wool till the fourteenth an' then I connected.

"--An', say. I 'm mighty glad it did last fourteen rounds. I still got
all my silk. I could see that easy. I wasn't breathin' much, an' every
round was fast. An' my legs was like iron. I could a-fought forty
rounds. You see, I never said nothin', but I've been suspicious all the
time after that beatin' the Chicago Terror gave me."

"Nonsense!--you would have known it long before now," Saxon cried. "Look
at all your boxing, and wrestling, and running at Carmel."

"Nope." Billy shook his head with the conviction of utter knowledge.
"That's different. It don't take it outa you. You gotta be up against
the real thing, fightin' for life, round after round, with a husky you
know ain't lost a thread of his silk yet--then, if you don't blow up, if
your legs is steady, an' your heart ain't burstin', an' you ain't wobbly
at all, an' no signs of queer street in your head--why, then you know
you still got all your silk. An' I got it, I got all mine, d'ye hear me,
an' I ain't goin' to risk it on no more fights. That's straight. Easy
money's hardest in the end. From now on it's horsebuyin' on commish, an'
you a