Once in San Francisco, Sam Stubener's troubles began. Not that young Pat had a nasty temper, or was grouchy as his father had feared. On the contrary, he was phenomenally sweet and mild. But he was homesick for his beloved mountains. Also, he was secretly appalled by the city, though he trod its roaring streets imperturbable as a red Indian. "I came down here to fight," he announced, at the end of the first week. "Where's Jim Hanford?" Stubener whistled. "A big champion like him wouldn't look at you," was his answer. "'Go and get a reputation,' is what he'd say." "I can lick him." "But the public doesn't know that. If you licked him you'd be champion of the world, and no champion ever became so with his first fight." "I can." "But the public doesn't know it, Pat. It wouldn't come to see you fight. And it's the crowd that brings the money and the big purses. That's why Jim Hanford wouldn't consider you for a second. There'd be nothing in it for him. Besides, he's getting three thousand a week right now in vaudeville, with a contract for twenty-five weeks. Do you think he'd chuck that for a go with a man no one ever heard of? You've got to do something first, make a record. You've got to begin on the little local dubs that nobody ever heard of--guys like Chub Collins, Rough-House Kelly, and the Flying Dutchman. When you've put them away, you're only started on the first round of the ladder. But after that you'll go up like a balloon." "I'll meet those three named in the same ring one after the other," was Pat's decision. "Make the arrangements accordingly." Stubener laughed. "What's wrong? Don't you think I can put them away?" "I know you can," Stubener assured him. "But it can't be arranged that way. You've got to take them one at a time. Besides, remember, I know the game and I'm managing you. This proposition has to be worked up, and I'm the boy that knows how. If we're lucky, you may get to the top in a couple of years and be the champion with a mint of money." Pat sighed at the prospect, then brightened up. "And after that I can retire and go back home to the old man," he said. Stubener was about to reply, but checked himself. Strange as was this championship material, he felt confident that when the top was reached it would prove very similar to that of all the others who had gone before. Besides, two years was a long way off, and there was much to be done in the meantime.