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the small gymnasium where the fighter was training. It was nearly always about
the same crowd, however, made up of dyed-in-the-wool fans, a few newspaper
men, and a sprinkling of thrill-seekers from other walks of life far removed from
the prize-ring. Jimmy often noticed women among the spectators--well-dressed
women, with every appearance of refinement, and there were always men of the
same upper class of society.
He mentioned the fact once to the same young man who had previously explained
the plan under which the fight was to be faked.
"
That's just part of the graft," said his informant. "These birds have got next to a
bunch of would-be sports with more money than brains through the athletic
director of--" he mentioned the name of one of the big athletic clubs--"and they
been inviting 'em here to watch Brophy training. Every one of the simps will be
tryin' to get money down on Brophy, and this bunch will take it all up as fast as
they come.
"The bettin' hasn't really started yet; in fact, they are holding off themselves until
the odds are better. If Brophy goes into the ring a three-to-one favorite these
fellows will make a killing that will be talked of for the next twenty years."
"And incidentally give boxing another black eye," interjected Jimmy.
"
Oh, what the hell do we care?" said the other. "I'm goin' to make mine out of it,
and you better do the same. I'm goin' to put up every cent I can borrow or steal
on the other guy."
It was Saturday, the 15th of January, just a week before the fight, that Jimmy,
trained now almost to perfection, stepped into the ring to take his usual mauling.
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