Bilinski began to give ground faster, the first glimmer of real fear in his dull little eyes. But still he refused to retaliate; he went on catching the Saint’s blows on his arms, gloves, shoulders, elbows, rolling instinctively with every one that he caught, like the battle-conditioned veteran he indisputably was. And he felt the ropes touch his back he leaned against them and bounded forward again, taking advantage of their spring, hurling his gross tonnage against the Saint and flinging his arms about him once again, shuffling around so that the Saint’s back was to the ropes instead. Inexorably he pushed Simon backwards against the rubberised strands.
Pat was on her feet, jumping up and down.
“Get away from him, Simon!” she screamed. “Get away from him!”
“Aw, sit down!” Fernack blasted at her. He cupped his hands about his mouth and yelled, “Knock him kicking, Angel! Hit him one for me! For Fernack!”
Pat turned on him furiously.
“Yes,” she shouted, “for poor feeble Fernack!” and brought a flailing hand down on the top of the detective’s derby, jamming it down over his eyes.
A localised area of laughter was swallowed in a sudden earthquake as the crowd surged to its feet en masse.
The Saint was obviously in trouble. He was still against the ropes, even as Torpedo Smith had been, shaking his head as though trying to clear it, as the Angel, close up to him, pumped short deliberate blows into his body. They lacked concussive snap, but were nevertheless sickening with the monstrous weight that lay behind them. The Angel seemed to be trying to shake the Saint loose to give himself room for a conclusive blow. That he would succeed seemed a matter of a very brief time. The Saint was already staggering and apparently holding on blindly.
In the Saint’s corner, Hoppy Uniatz, his face tortured into a mask of pleading horror, leaned over the bottom strand of the ropes, his clenched fists pounding the canvas desperately.
“Boss!” he begged, his raucous voice screeching with the intensity of his emotion. “Boss, get away from dem ropes. Don’t let him crowd ya! Boss!”