“Then I said, ‘Mum’s the word. We’ll just ask him to give Johnny a few pointers in boxing.’”
“And they agreed?” Johnny seemed ready to bolt from the room.
“Sure. Why not?” Blackie grinned. “It’s the grandest way to get in with all of ’em. They like a good joke. So does Red McGee.”
“Even if it’s on him?”
“Even if it’s on him. Absolutely.”
“Then he’s a real sport,” Johnny settled back in his place. “It will be a real joy to box him a few rounds.”
“Okie doke,” Blackie seemed relieved. “But, Johnny,” he added, “pull your punches. Murder isn’t legal in Alaska, not south of the Arctic Circle.”
“I only hope Red McGee remembers that,” was Johnny’s solemn reply.
CHAPTER XI
THE FALL OF THE RED McGEE
When by popular request, emphasized by loud shouts, Red McGee was called upon to put on the gloves, he stepped forward smiling. Johnny slid to the very edge of his box for a good look. This was the first time he had seen the man. He was a little startled.