At the time when these selections were made, Allen offered to bet three hundred dollars to two hundred that he would win the fight by the referee’s decision. This, as will be seen, was a singular sort of proposition, and hinted pretty strongly of fraud somewhere.
“I don’t know anything about the referee’s decision,” said Ben. “But I’m willing to fight you in this saloon here now, for all the stakes that have been put up. We can decide the matter without any more nonsense. There has been too much talk already. It’s time that we began to fight!”
Allen would not agree to any such proposition. He was ready enough to abide by the referee’s decision, but not by the decision of Hogan’s fists.
Ben, from this time forward until the fight, made his headquarters at the Southern Hotel. During his sojourn there, he was one day informed by the chief detective, whom he happened to meet on Fifth street, that unless he left the town at once, he would be locked up. Ben replied that as long as he attended to his own business, the authorities would better attend to theirs, and leave him alone. The vagabond law, then in force in St. Louis, made it possible for any stranger to be arrested on the simple grounds that he had no home. However, the police did not deem it their duty to take Hogan into custody, although they knew perfectly well that he was preparing to fight Allen.
It was at this time, also, that Cal Wagner visited St. Louis, and suggested a remedy for the ague, from which Ben was still suffering, and which afforded our hero some relief.
At the appointed time, Ben set out for Omaha, stopping en route in Kansas City. Allen had reached this place in advance, and was doing some pretty lively talk about the forthcoming fight.
Ben gave a sparring exhibition in Kansas City on the Sunday night preceding his departure, which was largely attended, and which proved quite a successful affair. He also met with a physician whose course of treatment proved so beneficial that he followed it out from that time forward. It should be mentioned that when he arrived in Kansas City, he was scarcely able to stand upon his feet—rather an awkward predicament for a man to be in who was on his way to the prize ring.
From Kansas City Ben proceeded direct to Omaha. He took with him John Sweeney, to act as one of his seconds in the fight. Upon reaching Omaha, he put up at the Grand Central Hotel, and began to make his final arrangements for the battle. For the purpose of furthering his training, he subsequently removed to a private boarding-house, where he had all facilities for his work.
When Ben first struck Omaha, he was really a sick man. The dumb ague had not left him. His flesh was wasted, and what was the most serious thing of all, he was not able to sleep more than six hours out of seventy-two. By a careful and systematic course of treatment, he gained, during one week, seven pounds in weight. He submitted daily to a severe rubbing, in order to get up circulation, and he took short walks, as his strength would permit. His diet consisted of oatmeal, mutton chops and bread. Had it not been for this intelligent and conscientious care of himself, Ben would never have been able to have faced Allen at all. As it was, he was not in a condition which enables a man to use his fists to the best advantage.
During his brief sojourn in Omaha, Ben was one day called into the office of the Daily Herald by the genial and gifted editor of that paper, Dr. Miller. The doctor had already listened to a good deal of Allen’s talk, and, with true journalistic instinct, was anxious to hear what Ben had to say for himself.