He told me afterwards that at that instant he suddenly remembered how Cross shammed grogginess and then whipped over his terrific right and that memory decided K. O. Brown to take no chances. “Go in and finish him!” yelled “Dumb” Dan Morgan to Brown. “Finish him now!” I saw the Dutchman turn and shake his head to his manager. “Just one more, K. O.” pleaded Dan. Wolgast was helpless. He was reeling about the ring like a drunken man, out on his feet. But Brown refused to believe it. And there was a world championship at stake! My heart was in my mouth. But what of poor “Dumb” Dan, who had steered the Dutchman to this supreme moment, and now, in the very harbor of victory, Brown wouldn’t anchor! Only one punch was needed to settle it, but the Dutchman continued to fiddle his chances away. His southpaw stance had presented him with the great opportunity, but he couldn’t take it. For the next two rounds, Ad Wolgast, still groggy, managed to keep Brown out by a strictly defensive fight. Even when he had partially recovered his senses, he had no effective answer to his opponent’s style, and finished the fight—a no-decision affair—a loser on points, in my opinion. However, under the rules that governed boxing at that time, only a knockout could rob him of his world title, and the Dutchman had failed to deliver it. There was an extraordinary scene in Brown’s corner after the fight. Dan Morgan was frantic. “Just one blow,” he howled. “Any kind of a punch and you would have become the lightweight champion of the world!” The Dutchman looked sheepish. “Say something, you sap,” bawled Morgan. “You had the title in your hands and you let it slip away. Why didn’t you go after him?” “Aw, Mister Morgan, I didn’t know it,” said Brown. “I taut he vos kiddin’ me.” K. O. Brown’s failure deferred the winning of a world title by a southpaw for three years when I saw George Chip, middleweight champion of the world knocked out in a huge fistic upset by Al McCoy in the Broadway Club of Brooklyn, April 6, 1914. Three years later, November 14, 1917, I saw McCoy dethroned in Brooklyn in another thriller by a tough Irish middleweight, Mike O’Dowd. That bout went into the sixth round when a terrific left split McCoy’s lips and a right to the jaw put Al away. McCoy was an ordinary fighter, but he takes his place in the Hall of Fame as the first southpaw to win a world crown in a gloves contest. * * * * * Every nation has had its quota of thrill providers in boxing—with the Irish and the Jews, in my opinion, leading the field during the years covered in my reminiscences. Sitting in my offices was Jack McAuliffe, the first recognized American lightweight champion who retired undefeated. He had paid me a visit about three months prior to his death and asked for help on an article he was writing on Irish fighters. “Tell me, Jack, what is it the Irish have that carries such appeal for the boxing enthusiasts?” I asked.