“I’ve got a cold coming on,” ses pore Ginger, looking at the Basher, who was on in front, “and a splitting ’eadache, and a sharp pain all down my left leg.  I don’t think——­”

“Well, it’s a good job it’s no worse,” ses the land-lord; “all you’ve got to do is to hit ’ard.  If you win it’s a ’undered pounds in my pocket, and I’ll stand you a fiver of it.  D’ye understand?”

They turned down some little streets, several of ’em going diff’rent ways, and arter crossing the River Lea got on to the marshes, and, as the landlord said, the place might ha’ been made for it.

A little chap from Mile End was the referee, and Bill Lumm, ’aving peeled, stood looking on while Ginger took ’is things off and slowly and carefully folded ’em up.  Then they stepped toward each other, Bill taking longer steps than Ginger, and shook ’ands; immediately arter which Bill knocked Ginger head over ’eels.

[Illustration:  “Bill Lumm, ’aving peeled, stood looking on while Ginger took ’is things off.”]

“Time!” was called, and the landlord o’ the Jolly Pilots, who was nursing Ginger on ’is knee, said that it was nothing at all, and that bleeding at the nose was a sign of ’ealth.  But as it happened Ginger was that mad ’e didn’t want any encouragement, he on’y wanted to kill Bill Lumm.

He got two or three taps in the next round which made his ’ead ring, and then he got ’ome on the mark and follered it up by a left-’anded punch on Bill’s jaw that surprised ’em both—­Bill because he didn’t think Ginger could hit so ’ard, and Ginger because ’e didn’t think that prize-fighters ’ad any feelings.

They clinched and fell that round, and the land-lord patted Ginger on the back and said that if he ever ’ad a son he ’oped he’d grow up like ’im.

Ginger was surprised at the way ’e was getting on, and so was old Sam and Peter Russet, and when Ginger knocked Bill down in the sixth round Sam went as pale as death.  Ginger was getting marked all over, but he stuck, to ’is man, and the two dock policemen, wot ’ad put their money on Bill Lumm, began to talk of their dooty, and say as ’ow the fight ought to be stopped.

At the tenth round Bill couldn’t see out of ’is eyes, and kept wasting ’is strength on the empty air, and once on the referee.  Ginger watched ‘is opportunity, and at last, with a terrific smash on the point o’ Bill’s jaw, knocked ’im down and then looked round for the landlord’s knee.

Bill made a game try to get up when “Time!” was called, but couldn’t; and the referee, who was ’olding a ’andkerchief to ’is nose, gave the fight to Ginger.

It was the proudest moment o’ Ginger Dick’s life.  He sat there like a king, smiling ’orribly, and Sam’s voice as he paid ’is losings sounded to ‘im like music, in spite o’ the words the old man see fit to use.  It was so ’ard to get Peter Russet’s money that it a’most looked as though there was going to be another prize-fight, but ’e paid up at last and went off, arter fust telling Ginger part of wot he thought of ’im.