and admirin' the other guy for his gameness and confidence in goin' ahead with the bout against a ex-champ. He tells me he'll be as merciful as possible with the inexperienced logger he expects to face and will try hard for a swift, painless knockout. The ring is pitched in the open a short distance from the town, a twenty-four-foot square bein' roped off on a high, grassy hillock, so that standin' some dozen feet below there's a good chance for everybody to see the mill.
I examined this homemade ring with the greatest of care, and I found nothin' about it to comfort me. The slippery grass made a treacherous footin' at best and a knockdown on that hard turf, instead of a padded mat, was certainly not goin' to do the baby which hit it a bit of good. It sure was a reminder of the old bareknuckle days, when the only rules was to keep on fightin'! Still, we was in there now and claimin' exemptions would of prob'ly cost us both our lives. I don't mind tellin' you I was good and nervous, but Kid Roberts was as cool as a winter wind, though his eyebrows did go up when he first flashed that ring.
"Snap into it, Joe!" he grins to me, when we get to our corner. "You look like a pall bearer, Don't worry, I'll win this bout in short order. If I can't get past this green lumberjack, I may as well give up all hope of returning to the ring. This afternoon my fate is on the knees of the gods!"
"Let's hope the gods don't stretch their legs, then!" I says, gloomily, and stared out over the ropes.
There was prob'ly only a thousand witnesses on hand, just the men from both camps and some sports
