sensation! My nerves gets quiet and my temper gets cool, and as I blew on my sore knuckles and little finger, which is beginning to swell and feels kind of numb, the only thing I'm wishing is that this fellow on the floor will get up and come at me!
Spence and the fellow that come to the store with the guy I hit is standing there staring at me like they can't believe their eyes. The stranger finally bends down and iooks over his friend on the floor.
"You hit hard!" he grunts at me. "Get me a bottle of ammonia and some ice water."
I got 'em and he douses the cold water on this fellow's face, and, uncorking the ammonia, holds it under his nose. Pretty soon my victim's eyes opens, and the other fellow starts helping him up, with his face half turned to me.
"Know who you just stopped?" he says in a odd voice. I shook my head. What difference did that make?
"He's just Knockout Kelly," he says; "'at's all he is!"
"And you knocked him out—you knocked him out!" sings Spence, dancing around wildly.
Well, I get sick to my stomach, and that's a fact. I hit Knockout Kelly, the prize fighter! Why, I thought, he'll get up off that floor and about murder me! And he did straighten up on his feet just then and make a rush at me, but his friend holds him back.
"C'mere, you sap!" he hisses at him. "What d'ye wanna do—break your hands on this guy? We'll square this in good time!" He turns around to me
