"Time!"
He barely had a chance to duck, almost double, while McCleaverty's right swished over his head. The dub was swinging for a knockout already. The round would be hot and fast.
"Stay with um, Shorty."
"That's the stuff, Shorty."
He must be setting the pace, the house plainly told him that. He stepped in again and cut loose with both fists.
"Break!"
Shorty had not clinched. Was it possible that McCleaverty was clinching "to avoid punishment." Shorty tried again, stepping in close, his right arm crooked and ready.
"Break!"
The dub was clinching. There could be no doubt of that. Shorty gathered himself together and rushed in, upper-cutting viciously; he felt McCleaverty giving way before him.
"He's got um going."