Now Jefferies had never been either very quick or very skilful, but he had never been beaten. He had won all his many fights in the past by his strength. He knew that he was now matched against a very good man, but he really expected as well as hoped to win. Good judges of boxing shared the hope, but not the expectation. The return of a veteran always fills every one but the most sanguine of his supporters with misgivings. The crowd about the ring was enormous--women, cowboys, poor men, rich men, yellow, red, and black men. The grand stand alone held 18,000 people. It was announced by the doctor officially appointed for the occasion that Johnson was upon the brink of nervous collapse. But a few minutes later when he entered the ring he certainly appeared to be well and confident. Nothing of any interest occurred in the first round. Both men were desperately cautious. Jefferies crouched with his head sunk between his huge shoulders, whilst the black stood up straight, a magnificent figure of a man, his left hand up and out, his right diagonally thrown across his chest in the conventional manner, his knees very slightly bent. He was perfectly poised, his weight equally shared by both legs. The crouching attitude has its advantages, but amongst the several points against it is the fact that it is unnecessarily fatiguing. So the men circled round each other, hitting tentatively now and again, to see whether the other was on the alert and quick to guard, not letting go, risking nothing. And in the second round also both exercised the extremest care. Once Jefferies hit out with all his might and missed Johnson by inches as he side-stepped. And the black laughed at his failure. An equal round.