“Thanks!” grinned the hobo, his dark eyes flashing. “Jest you watch out that I git fair play. Help me tie these mitts on, will you?”
Billings aided in tying the gloves onto the stranger’s hands. In the meantime, McCord attended to Mullin, who had stripped down for the encounter.
“Don’t let him touch you, Tapper,” urged Bingo.
“Don’t worry about that,” retorted Mullin. “You’re the only gent around this town that can put me out of business.”
The interest of the crowd in the stranger had been thoroughly aroused. They saw now that he was not a bad-looking fellow by any means; indeed, it was possible that, washed up and dressed in decent clothing, he would present a rather attractive appearance.
In a few moments both men were ready. The interested spectators were now back on either side against the walls, in order that the boxers might have plenty of room.
“I’ll bet a round for the crowd that Tapper puts him down and out within three minutes!” cried one.
“I will go you!” instantly exclaimed Skip Billings.
Without any formality the contestants met and began to spar. The stranger assumed a correct position and easily warded off the leads of his opponent when Mullin started without delay to press the contest. Round and round they went, ducking, dodging, and parrying.
“Get into him, Tapper!” urged the man who had offered to bet on him. “You’re wasting time!”