"Time--oh, Time, Time!" shrieked the Old Un. Whereupon Ravenslee sprang to the centre of the ring, and once again the air resounded with tramp of feet and pant of breath. Twice Ravenslee staggers beneath Joe's mighty left, but watchful ever and having learned much, Ravenslee keeps away, biding his time--ducks a swing, sidesteps a drive, and blocking a vicious hook--smacks home his long left to Joe's ribs, rocks him with a swinging uppercut, drives in a lightning left and right, and Joe goes down with a crash. Even while the Old Un stared in wide-eyed, gaping amaze, Joe was on his feet again, serene and calm as ever, only his great chest laboured somewhat, but Ravenslee shook his head. "I guess that'll be about enough, Joe," said he. "Guv," cried the Old Un, seizing Ravenslee's right hand, boxing glove and all, and shaking it to and fro, "you're a credit to us, you do us bloomin' proud--strike me pink, ye do! 'Ere 's Joe 'ammered you an' 'ammered you--look at your bloomin' chest--lumme! 'Ere 's Joe been knockin' ye down an' knockin' ye down, an' you comin' up smilin' for more an' gettin' it--'ere's Joe been a-poundin' of ye all over the ring, yet you can finish strong an' speedy enough to put Joe down--blimy, Guv, you're a wonder an' no error!" "I don't think Joe fought his hardest, Old Un." "If 'e didn't," cried the old man, "I'll punch 'im on the nose so 'e won't never smell nothink no more." "Sir," said Joe, "in the first round p'raps I did go a bit easylike, but arter that I came at you as 'ard an' 'eavy as I could. I 'it you where an' 'ow I could, barrin' your face." "I hope I shall soon be good enough for you to go for my face as well, Joe." "But, sir--if I give you a black eye--" "How will--say, ten dollars do?" "Ten dollars! For blacking your eye, sir?" "Lumme, Joe!" cried the Old Un, "get back into the ring and black 'em both--" "Shut up!" said Joe, scowling down into the Old Un's eager face, "you 'eartless old bloodsucker, you!" "Bloodsucker!" screamed the old man, "w'ot, me? I'll punch you on the ear-'ole, Joe, so's you never 'ear nothin' no more." "Are you on, Joe?" asked Ravenslee, while the Old Un, swearing softly, unlaced his gloves. "But, crumbs, sir--axin' your pardon, things'll come a bit expensive, won't they? Y' see--" "So much the better, ye blighted perisher!" snarled the Old Un, "an' don't forget as the Guv owes you thirty dollars a'ready--an' 'arves, mind." "Stow it, you old bag o' wickedness--" "Bag o'--" the Old Un let fall the boxing gloves and turning on Joe, reached up and shook a feeble old fist under the champion's massive chin. "Look at this, me lad--look at this!" he croaked. "Some day I shall ketch you sich a perishin' punch as'll double ye up till kingdom come, me lad, and--Lord, the Guv's countin' out our money--" "Thirty of 'em, Joe," said Ravenslee, holding out a wad of bills.