was introduced, stepped into the ring he received a hearty

round of applause, whereas there was but a scattered ripple

of handclapping to greet the mucker. It was the first time he

ever had stepped into a ring with a first-rate fighter, and

as he saw the huge muscles of his antagonist and recalled the

stories he had heard of his prowess and science, Billy, for the

first time in his life, felt a tremor of nervousness.

His eyes wandered across the ropes to the sea of faces

turned up toward him, and all of a sudden Billy Byrne went

into a blue funk. Professor Cassidy, shrewd and experienced,

saw it even as soon as Billy realized it--he saw the fading of

his high hopes--he saw his castles in Spain tumbling in ruins

about his ears--he saw his huge giant lying prone within that

squared circle as the hand of the referee rose and fell in

cadence to the ticking of seconds that would count his man

out.

"Here," he whispered, "take a swig o' this," and he pressed

a bottle toward Billy's lips.

Billy shook his head. The stuff had kept him down all his

life--he had sworn never to touch another drop of it, and he

never would, whether he lost this and every other fight he ever

fought. He had sworn to leave it alone for HER sake! And then

the gong called him to the center of the ring.

Billy knew that he was afraid--he thought that he was

afraid of the big, trained fighter who faced him; but Cassidy

knew that it was a plain case of stage fright that had gripped

his man. He knew, too, that it would be enough to defeat Billy's

every chance for victory, and after the big "white hope" had

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