"That's for you, Mr. Gallant, with the compliments of the boys out here who know a good, game kid when they see one and whose hearts are always in the right place," he said, handing him the hat full of money.
He felt the tears coming back in his eyes.
"I don't—I can't——" he said hoarsely.
"Oh, yes, you can," interrupted Murray. "You take it and forget about it."
The crowd cheered. A thick-shouldered individual pushed himself through the ropes into the ring.
"For the keed, Meester Murray," said the newcomer, handing him a $20 bill. "Hee's a gude keed, maybe I help."
It was Battling Rodriguez. He crossed over and taking John's hand grinned out at the crowd.
John felt the tears coming again and was thankful when Murray led him to a corner and helped him down out of the ring.
"One of the newspaper men wants to speak to you," he said. "Here's your man, Morton."
He shook hands with the newspaper man.