"Luck," I said laconically. Jack Ballard had clasped his big congested hand, "Proud of you, Jerry, old boy! You ought to have won. Why the Devil did you let him coax you into close quarters?" "I thought--I could stand--what he could," grunted Jerry. "Not the lucky blow. He had it. If you'd stood him off--" "I came here to fight--" said Jerry sinking back on his mattress wearily. I think his mind was beginning to work slowly around to the real meaning of his defeat, not the mere failure of his science and skill, but the failure of his body and mind as against the mind and body of a trained brute, whom he had set his heart on conquering. I knew as no one else there knew what the victory meant to him, and the memory of the brief glimpse I had had of the Van Wyck girl's face when he lay in the ring inflamed me anew. I know not what--some vestige of my thought reached him, for he drew me toward him and when I bent my head he whispered in my ear, "Marcia--was there?" I nodded. "She stayed--saw--?" "Yes." He made no sound, and submitted silently to the ministrations of his trainers. Flynn was philosophical. "The fortunes of war, Misther Canby. 'T'was a gran' fight, as fine a mill as you'll see in a loife time--wid the best man losin'--'S a shame, sor; but Masther Jerry w'u'd have his way--bad cess to 'm. You can't swap swipes wid a gorilla, sor. It ain't done." "He beat me fairly," said Jerry sitting up. "Who? Clancy? I'll match you agin him tomorrow, Masther Jerry," and he grinned cheerfully, "if ye'll but take advice." "Advice!" sighed Jerry. "You were right Flynn--I--I was wrong." "I wudden't mind if it wasn't for thinkin' of that fifteen thousand." "I think he earned it," laughed Jack. Jerry sat up on the edge of the bed and stared around, one eye only visible. The other was concealed behind a piece of raw meat that Flynn was holding over it. "You lost something, Flynn?" he asked. "A trifle, sor." "And the Kid and Tim?" "_And_ Rozy and Dan--all of us a bit, sor. But it don't matther." "Well," he said with a laugh. "I'll make it up to you, all of you, d' you hear? And I'm very much obliged for your confidence." It didn't need this munificence on Jerry's part to win the affection of these bruisers, but they were none the less cheerful on account of it. As Jim Robinson he had won their esteem, and all the evening they had stood a little in awe of Jerry Benham, but before they left him that night he gave them a good handshake all around and invited them to his house on the morrow. Between the crowd of us we got him into street clothes and a closed automobile in which Jack and I went with him to his house uptown. CHAPTER XVII MARCIA RECANTS