Blair sat silent. It is strange how silence will fool a man like Devereau. He made one last try for peace. "And if you behave; if you're a good boy maybe we're going to forget we had this little misunderstanding. There's others besides Hughie just as soft. But if you're dead set on finding out who is boss; if you want to know whether you're Dunham's man or not, why just cross them orders. Pig-iron's got ten thousand on that fight--ten thousand that you don't win by a knock-out, if you win at all. And if you cost him that ten--Well, just dump it, if you want to see!" "I fight on the level," said Perry, "or I don't fight at all." "Then you don't fight at all," said Devereau. Blair held him a long time with an eye that was chill. His voice was quieter than before, if that were possible. "I have sat here and taken talk from you, you vermin, that I'd take from no man, because I could figure no other way. They know, downstairs, that you are up here with me. If I kill you they will hang me, and I do not choose to hang for one like you. If I laid a finger on you, that would be assault, and you and your friends would swear me into jail. That would be high card for you. It would fill your hand. So I must sit here idle. But some day, maybe, I'm going to come upon you with no circumstances to hinder. And if I do I'm going to change you. You do not please me, as you are. Some day I hope to alter you so that you will be a curio, even to your own best friends. . . . Get out!" The chill eye had frightened Devereau. It heartened him to hear that he was safe. "We'll put you out on the street," he snarled. "You'll be standing on a corner, wondering what it's all about!" "Get out!" Devereau got. CHAPTER VI FELICITY CROSSES BROADWAY And Perry Blair _had_ wanted to see. He hadn't listened to reason. He hadn't been a good boy. His bout with Gay was a repetition of that with Fanchette, the former title-holder. A brief half minute of boxing, a feint--and Gay on the canvas for the count of ten. He had wanted to see. He had been consumed with desire to see. And it had happened quickly. The victory failed to raise a second wave of adulation, even a ripple, in fact. Instead it was received oddly with scarcely any comment at all. Even the papers had but little to say, and that little noncommittal. For there were rumors. Devereau and Pig-iron Dunham had done some preliminary work in anticipation of the worst. And after the worst had come to be they went to work in earnest. It was Devereau, Blair's own manager--ex-manager, the day after the Gay bout--who gave out the interview announcing the severance of business relations with the champion. There were reasons, he said, but he was not explicit. He left them veiled at first, purposely obscure.