The boy finished one hand. Gilroy flexed it, looked at the floor.
“They’ve put the feah o’ God in me, Mistah Kells. If Ah win, Ah don’t go home tonight — maybe.”
Kells turned to face him squarely, said: “You mean you’re going to take a dive for nothing.
“If that’s the way you want to put it — yes, sah.”
The boy started on the other hand. Gilroy went on: “Ah been gettin’ letters an’ phone calls an’ warnin’s for a week...”
“Who from?”
“Don’t know.” Gilroy shook his head slowly.
Kells glanced at his watch. He said: “Do you figure you owe me anything, Lonny?”
Gilroy looked at him, and his eyes were big, liquid. “Shuah,” he said — “shuah — Ah remembah.”
“This is my town, now. I want you to go in and win, if you can. I’ll have a load of protection here by the time you get in the ring — you can stick with me afterwards.” Kells looked at him very intently. “This is important.”