addict, had bet heavily on Hershel for some reason known only to herself and she cheered him loud and lustily. Hershel immediately arose and bowed solemnly to the opposite side of the ling from where Hazel was sitting.
"At's the tip-off!" says Jerry disgustedly. "'At big tomato don't know what it's all about. He won't last a round with this guy Heehaw. I seen 'at baby go—he's as tough as a year in the pen."
"Leave my fighter alone, stupid!" says Hazel irritably. "What do you know about boxing?"
"I know enough not to do it," says Jerry. "'At's more than 'at maniac does!"
Further discussion and possibly violence was prevented by the entrance of One-Feint Heehaw, a villainous-looking, bullet-headed facsimile of a gorilla. He was welcomed with riotous applause and tried out a smile on the admiring mob. Honestly, the result was so horrifying that Hazel and me shuddered and hid behind Jerry's broad back. The crowd breaks into an excited buzz of incoherent conversation as the men are called to the center of the ring for the referee's instructions. One-Feint Heehaw looks Hershel up and down sneeringly and then turns to the referee.
"Do I walk to the ropes and wait for the count every time I knock this chump down?" he asks the grinning official.
