Under the assumed name of Benedict, he joined the gymnasium in St. Louis, and while professing to receive instructions, he really became the teacher of those who patronized the place. Nobody suspected that it was the notorious Ben Hogan with whom they practiced daily in the gymnasium.
Ben’s system of training was thorough and severe. He cut off from his diet every thing except the most nourishing articles, abstained entirely from all intoxicating liquors, and exercised regularly and constantly.
In the interim between the making of the match and the time appointed for its fulfillment, occurred the fight between Allen and McCool. In that contest, as the reader probably knows, Allen was an easy winner, knocking McCool completely out of time before his backers knew what ailed him.
Ben was present at this fight, and, as may readily be imagined, watched its result with keen interest. After the sponge had been thrown up by McCool, Hogan stepped up to Allen and said:
“If you whip me as easily as you have this man, I will stand a champagne supper for you and all your friends.”
“You’re getting high-toned,” retorted Allen, with a derisive laugh.
“I beg your pardon,” said Ben; “I forgot who I was talking to. I will stand the lager, as that will probably be more to your taste.”
Three days after the Allen-McCool fight, the remaining five hundred dollars a side was put up by Allen and Hogan. Ben then went into training with even more earnestness than he had before done. Dublin Trix acted as his trainer, and things were looking most hopeful, until a sudden stroke of bad luck changed the aspect of affairs.
Fully fifteen hundred cases of dumb ague were raging in and about St. Louis, and Ben fell a victim to the disease. This, it will be remembered, was on the eve of the battle, so to speak, and a most discouraging circumstance it was. A less plucky man than Hogan would have thrown up the game then and there. But he determined to meet his antagonist, whatever might come. Of course the ague interfered seriously with his training; indeed, it may be said to have put a stop to it altogether. All that Ben could do was to fight against the disease and attend strictly to the laws of health.
He tried any number of remedies, and offered four hundred dollars to any doctor who would cure him, but all to no purpose. The ague held on with an iron grip.