Again he was in the ring, experiencing once more that same incomprehensible feeling of sympathy for the Gutter Pup. The more he danced about, shaking his head and feinting with quick, nervous jabs, the more Lovely's heart warmed up to him. Wasn't he a jolly, genial chap, though? Desperately Lovely strove to remember some fault, a word or a look that had once offended him. In vain; nothing came. He liked the chap better than he had ever liked any one before. He struck out as one strikes at his dearest friend, and a low groan of disgust rose from the Sporting Club. "Ah, put some steam in it!" "Do you think you're pickin' cherries?" "That's it--be polite!" "Sister, don't hurt little brother!" The Welsh Rabbit spoke: "Time!" Not a real blow had yet been struck. Lovely went to his corner perplexed. "That's the boy," said De Soto, with a satisfied shake of his head. "That's the game! Don't mind what you hear. Play the long game. The Crouching Kangaroo style is all very pretty, but it doesn't save the wind." "Never mind the ballet steps, Sport," added Turkey, vigorously applying the towel. "Hold in, but when you do start, rip the in'ards out of things." "They think I'm doing it on purpose," said Lovely to himself. "Time!" called the Welsh Rabbit. The Gutter Pup, changing his tactics, as though he had sufficiently reconnoitred, began to attack with rapid, pestiferous blows that annoyed Lovely as a swarm of gnats annoys a dog. He shook his head angrily and sought an opportunity to strike, but the fusillade continued, light but disconcerting. When he struck, the Gutter Pup slipped away or ducked and returned smiling and professional to attack. Lovely began to be irritated by the Gutter Pup's complacency. He wasn't serious enough,--his levity was insulting. Also, he was furious because the Gutter Pup would not strike him a blow that hurt. His jaw set and he started to rush. "Time!" said the Welsh Rabbit. Lovely went to his corner unconvinced. "Are the rounds three minutes?" he asked. "Sure," said Turkey. "Don't worry; they'll get longer." Lovely looked across at the opposite camp. The adherents of the Gutter Pup were patting him on the back, exulting over his work. "What's he done?" said Lovely, angrily, to himself; "that sort of work wouldn't hurt a fly." "Time!" said the Welsh Rabbit. Lovely walked slowly to meet the Gutter Pup, bursting with irritation. He waited, and as the Gutter Pup attacked he plunged forward, taking a blow in the face, and drove his fist joyfully into the chest before him. The Gutter Pup went back like a tenpin, staggered, and kept his footing. When he came up there was no longer a smile in his eyes. They threw boxing to the winds. It was give and take, fast and furious, back and forth against the ropes, and rolling over and over on the ground. "Time!" announced the Welsh Rabbit, and Hickey had to pry them apart.