Hogarty's whole attitude was that of a man who wanted to believe and yet who, because he knew that the very measure of his eagerness made him doubly easy to convince, had resolved not to let himself accept one spurious proof. And all his skepticism was shot through and through with hate--a deadly, patient sort of hatred for someone which was as easy to see as it was hard for the big-shouldered boy to understand. There was craft in the ex-lightweight's bearing--a gentleness almost stealthy when he leaned forward a little, as if he feared that the first abrupt move or word on his part would frighten away that timid hope. "I believe that you said some one sent you. You--you did not mention the name?" Denny leaned over and picked up his coat from a chair beside the bench, searching the pockets until he found the card which the plump, brown-clad newspaper man had given him. Without a word he reached out and put it in Hogarty's hands. It bore Jesse Hogarty's Fourteenth Street address across its face. Hogarty turned it over. "Introducing the Pilgrim," ran the caption in the cramped handwriting of Chub Morehouse's stubby fingers. And, beneath, that succinct sentence which was not so cryptic after all: "Some of them may have science, and some of them may have speed, but after all it's the man who can take punishment who gets the final decision. Call me up, if this ever comes to hand." Very deliberately Hogarty deciphered the words, lifted a vaguely puzzled face to Young Denny, who waited immobile--and then returned again to the card. He even nodded once in thorough appreciation of the title which Morehouse had given the boy; he smiled faintly as he remembered Denny as he had stood there in the entrance of the big room, a short while before, and realized how apt the phrase was. Then he began to whistle, a shrill, faint, monotonous measure, the calculating glitter in his eyes growing more and more brilliant. "So!" he murmured thoughtfully. "So-o-o!" And then, to Denny: "Was there--did he make any comment in particular, when he gave you this?" The boy's eyes twinkled. "He--made several," he answered. "He said that there was a man at that address--meaning you--that would fall on my neck and weep, if I happened to have the stuff. And he warned me, too, not to think that Jed The Red fought like a school boy, just because he was a second-rater--because he didn't, nothing like that!" Hogarty laughed aloud. That sudden, staccato chuckle was almost startling coming from his pale lips. It hushed just as quickly as it had begun.