I never could just remember what did happen in that ring. He give me no time to spring. He fell on me like a horse. I couldn’t keep my feet against him, and though, as I saw, he could get his hold when he liked, he wanted to chew me over a bit first. I was wondering if they’d be able to pry him off me, when, in the third round, he took his hold; and I begun to drown, just as I did when I fell into the river off the Red C slip. He closed deeper and deeper on my throat, and everything went black and red and bursting; and then, when I were sure I were dead, the handlers pulled him off, and the Master give me a kick that brought me to. But I couldn’t move none, or even wink, both eyes being shut with lumps.
“He’s a cur!” yells the Master, “a sneaking, cowardly cur! He lost the fight for me,” says he, “because he’s a — — — cowardly cur.” And he kicks me again in the lower ribs, so that I go sliding across the sawdust. “There’s gratitude fer yer,” yells the Master. “I’ve fed that dog, and nussed that dog and housed him like a prince; and now he puts his tail between his legs and sells me out, he does. He’s a coward! I’ve done with him, I am. I’d sell him for a pipeful of tobacco.” He picked me up by the tail, and swung me for the men-folks to see. “Does any gentleman here want to buy a dog,” he says, “to make into sausage-meat?” he says. “That’s all he’s good for.”
Then I heard the little Irish groom say, “I’ll give you ten bob for the dog.”
And another voice says, “Ah, don’t you do it; the dog’s same as dead–mebbe he is dead.”
“Ten shillings!” says the Master, and his voice sobers a bit; “make it two pounds and he’s yours.”
But the pals rushed in again.
“Don’t you be a fool, Jerry,” they say. “You’ll be sorry for this when you’re sober. The Kid’s worth a fiver.”
One of my eyes was not so swelled up as the other, and as I hung by my tail, I opened it, and saw one of the pals take the groom by the shoulder.
“You ought to give ’im five pounds for that dog, mate,” he says; “that’s no ordinary dog. That dog’s got good blood in him, that dog has. Why, his father–that very dog’s father—”
I thought he never would go on. He waited like he wanted to be sure the groom was listening.