"For I'm a man," said the amiable warrior confidentially, "as knows Class when he sees it. You're Class, sir, that's what you are."
This, taken in conjunction with the fact that if the worst came to the worst he had, at any rate, won a medal by having got into the final, cheered Sheen. If only Joe Bevan had appeared he would have been perfectly contented.
But there were no signs of Joe.
XXII
A GOOD FINISH
"Final, Light-Weights," shouted the referee.
A murmur of interest from the ring-side chairs.
"R. D. Sheen, Wrykyn College."
Sheen got his full measure of applause this time. His victories in the preliminary bouts had won him favour with the spectators.
"J. Peteiro, Ripton School."
"Go it, Ripton!" cried a voice from near the door. The referee frowned in the direction of this audacious partisan, and expressed a hope that the audience would kindly refrain from comment during the rounds.