This other manager stated that he thought the mill would
prove excellent practice for his man who was having difficulty
in finding opponents. Professor Cassidy thought so too, and
grinned for two hours straight after reading the challenge.
The details of the fight were quickly arranged. In accordance
with the state regulations it was to be a ten round, no
decision bout--the weight of the gloves was prescribed by
law.
The name of the "white hope" against whom Billy was to
go was sufficient to draw a fair house, and there were some
there who had seen Billy in other fights and looked for a
good mill. When the "coming champion," as Billy's opponent
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.
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