Dingle had refused to be comforted until he had
promised never to enter the ring again. Which, as Steve said, had come
pretty hard, he being a man who would rather be a water-bucket in a
ring than a president outside it.
But he had given the promise, and kept it, leaving the field to the
above-mentioned bunch of cheeses. There were times when the temptation
to knock the head off Battling Dick this and Fighting Jack that became
almost agony, but he never yielded to it. All of which suggests that
Steve was a man of character, as indeed he was.
Bailey, entering the gymnasium, found Steve already there, punching
the bag with a force and precision which showed that the bunch of
cheeses ought to have been highly grateful to Mrs. Dingle for her
anti-pugilistic prejudices.
"Good morning, Dingle," said Bailey precisely.
Steve nodded. Bailey began to don his gymnasium costume. Steve gave the
ball a final punch and turned to him. He was a young man who gave the
impression of being, in a literal sense, perfectly square. This was due
to the breadth of his shoulders, which was quite out of proportion to
his height. His chest was extraordinarily deep, and his stomach and
waist small, so that to the observer seeing him for the first time in
boxing trunks, he seemed to begin as a big man and, half-way down,
change his mind and become a small one.
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