The gong rang. I threw aside my robe and walked to the center of the ring. I was so scared I could hardly breathe; there was a great big lump in my throat and my knees were a bit shaky. Those knees of mine did not get very weak till I got right up to that Jimmie and saw his face. He had freckles, and I have always been afraid of a freckled face man. They say they are mean and will fight like the devil; now I know they are mean and also know that they will fight like hell. We shook hands, and as I prepared to take my position and make a grand stand show, he piled me one right square in the right eye. This stunned me for a moment and I could see only stars. When I regained self-control I was the maddest I have ever been in all my life. I gritted my teeth and went at that one hundred and thirty-five pounder as a buzz saw goes after a knotty log. He was apparently knotty and I intended to cut some of them out. The gong sounded--end of the first round. By this time my eye had swollen so badly I couldn't see from it at all. Five more rounds! During the second bout I hit that fellow a few good ones and I knocked him down more than once with those big long railers, as they term them back in North Carolina. Along about the fourth round I saw that he was going to get the better of me and put me out of commission if I didn't protect myself. Then I decided to keep away from him as much as possible, and in the sixth round he was chasing me around the ring like one rooster does another in the pit. Whenever he cornered me I would clinch with him, and as a consequence the official would necessarily consume some time in breaking us. I cared not how long it took to separate us, for my game was a time killing one. I only wanted to last the six rounds so I would be able to get my purse, for such was my only salvation. The very last of the sixth round he forced me to the ropes, and just as the gong rang he drove me a straight from the right shoulder which landed squarely on my eye. This blow sent me over the ropes of the platform and I fell to the floor, twelve feet below. I remember distinctly that terrific punch, but I do not remember having hit the floor. The next morning I was barely able to see, for both eyes were swollen dreadfully and my poor head was paining terribly. Two swollen eyes and a big knot on the head was enough. On awakening my first question was, "Did I win?" "You sure did," replied one of the fellows in the training quarters, for it was there I had spent the night. I secured my hundred, and two days later I was on a Southern Pacific sleeper bound for my home back in dear old North Carolina.