cles for this sort of thing?" demanded Uncle Chandler, with a gesture toward the ample biceps in crayon.
Teddie laughed.
"Oh, no, that wasn't a professional model. That's the arm of Gunboat Dorgan, the prize-fighter. I sketched that the other afternoon when he was up here with Ruby Reamer, one of my regular models. He's Ruby's steady, as she calls it. She's very proud of him, and had him showing me some of his stunts. So I thought it would be a good chance to get a study of an arm like that. And Gunnie—that's what Ruby calls him—isn't a bit like what I thought a prize-fighter would be. He's rather a bright-minded boy, and a little shy, and if he wins the lightweight bout from Slim Britton, the English boxer, he's going to marry Ruby and take a flat down on Second Avenue."
"But you say he's a fighter, a ring-fighter?"
"Yes, that's how he makes his living. He's quite serious about it all, and trains
