I had received such promises from him before, and they really meant little to me. I was willing to help in order to get the bout in America and not because of Mike’s business proposition. I waited until one o’clock in the morning, and then put in a trans-Atlantic telephone call to Broadribb in London. At four in the morning, while Trevor Wignall, British writer, was sitting in my room with me awaiting the call, so that he could obtain a beat for his paper, the phone rang. It was Broadribb calling. “Hello, Ted,” I said. “Sorry to disturb you. I’m calling to get the low-down on the Farr-Schmeling fight. Have you signed? Mike Jacobs wants to give your man the chance that no British champion has had since Charley Mitchell’s days—an opportunity to fight here for the real world title. Will you accept?” “Sorry, old man, but I can’t do it. What would they think of me if I should suddenly say that I don’t want the Schmeling fight after I’ve told them to go ahead and get the German for Tommy?” “Ted,” I replied, “you knew right along that we were coming to London in a few weeks for a Farr-Louis match. Weren’t you told that?” “I read it here in Wignall’s column, but didn’t know definitely. Had I been sure, you know that nothing would have stood in the way. It would have been different. That’s the one fight we want and we would grab it.” “Well, Ted,” I answered, “it isn’t too late. You haven’t signed, and Schmeling is simply doing this in order to bolster his stock overseas. If he licks Farr he figures he’ll strengthen his claim to the title he thinks is his. Can’t you see that?” “I can’t say any more,” concluded Broadribb. “Let the matter rest until tomorrow. Your proposition looks good to me but I must confer with Hulls and Tommy.” With that he rang off and the first step in the negotiations that made English boxing history had been completed. We had set the stage for a heavyweight championship bout in which a British champion would come to American soil to fight for the title for the first time in thirty years. I told Jacobs of our conversation. He had been down in the dumps, but was somewhat cheered by the progress I had made. “I won’t let Schmeling cross me after what I was trying to arrange for him. He’ll either agree to fight Louis for the championship under my control in August or Farr will get the chance no matter what the cost. Call him again tomorrow.” I did, and at midnight the second day I again put in a call for Broadribb, this time with Jacobs sitting at my side. To what he had already told me, Broadribb now added: “I have been advised that the German Boxing Commission, the French Federation, and the British Boxing Board of Control have helped Schmeling by recognizing him, not Louis, as the champion, so that our fight will be for the title. How do I know that a Farr-Louis fight will be recognized as a world championship bout under such conditions?”