maining erect. This bout was the main event of a card put on for the hired help by the heavy bosses of the Irontown Locomotive Works, to celebrate the fiftieth birthday of the choo-choo factory. The merry ironworkers had a two-day holiday of track and field sports, winding up with the boxing show, while the bosses done their setting-up exercises at a banquet table.
We signed the articles in Lefty Mullen's gym in New York. Both me and Shifty McTague agree to make 158 at two o'clock the day of the quarrel.
"I don't seem to of heard much about this boy of yours," says the matchmaker to Nate, looking at me kind of suspicious. "Is he tough?"
"Is he tough?" grunts Nate. "This McTague boloney will think he's tough when 'at bell rings, don't think he won't. Why, this kid had on a pair of boxin' gloves the first day he's alive!"
"I hope he's tough," says the matchmaker gloomily. "Because should he not be tough, he'll have on a pair of boxin' gloves the last day he's alive too!"
"Blah!" sneers Nate. "Be yourself! Who did this McTague ever kill?"
"I ain't talkin' about McTague," says the matchmaker. "I'm busy thinkin' about them ironworkers, which will expect the Battle of Gettysburg once them two boys come out of their corners. If your battler can't take it, they'll cook him sure. That goes for McTague too. I don't care how tough your boy thinks he is, them ironworkers is Tough itself! If I was the two kids which is goin' up there to do their stuff, I'd
