“If you are married, are there any children, or do you expect an offspring soon?”

“What was, or is your maiden name?”

Here the manager intervened.

“You can leave all that bunk out!”

The surprised reporters turned to look. Charlie, grim-faced and stern-eyed, was crunching his cigar under his heel and staring at Babe.

“That boloney don’t fit in with the true story,” he said, “the true story dope I’m commencin’ in the World. You’ll be gettin’ your sheets in Dutch if you spill that line of apple mush.”

“Oh say, Charlie, you know we’ve got to get a story tonight. What’s doing?”

“Well, you can take this statement from me and put it over my signature. The Bearcat ain’t losin’ his head and jeopardizin’ his future by thinkin’ of marriage with the usual blood-sucker parasites crashin’ his dressin’ room.”

“That’s hot—hot copy, boys.”

“Bearcat’s manager K. O.’s romance for the big Bearcat.”

“Bearcat to stay wild.”

“Bearcat growls at chains of matrimony.”

The newspapermen went scuffing out.

The Bearcat was rinsing blood out of his mouth with listerine. Seconds and trainer were jamming fighting-gear into a suitcase. Charlie motioned them to leave. The trainer stopped in the door.

“See you tomorrow, Bearcat.”

The Bearcat turned thoughtfully to his trainer.

“Not for a couple of days.”

“See us both tomorrow in my room, Buck,” Charlie cut in.

“All right. I get ya,” Buck replied. The trainer saluted and left.

The Bearcat, humiliated and mortified at his manager’s throwing strife into his victory, spoke up indignantly to Charlie.

“Hell of a way to congratulate a guy, bustin’ in crazy like that. Lousiest I was ever treated in my life. Rawest thing ever pulled on me—”

“Wait a minute,” Charlie was sneering at Babe. “Not half so lousy or raw as that dame’s pullin’ on me.”

“I don’t want to fight no more tonight, Charlie,” the Bearcat murmured.

“You heard what I said to the newspaper guys, didn’t you?” Charlie said to Babe.

“I don’t mind an insult,” she said, “when it ain’t meant mean.”

“Well, I meant it the way I said it. When I ten you it’s walkin’ papers for you, I mean it. Now scram!”

The Bearcat stiffened.

“That ain’t no way to talk to somebody ’at helped me win this fight.”

Charlie’s mouth looked nasty.

“And helped to wipe off a couple of thousand bucks out of your earnings for an evenin’s flash of duds. And when she’s gone through all you got she won’t even pawn a piece of thread out of them rags to git you coffee-and.”

Babe smiled with a pretended wanness, looking into Bearcat’s eyes.

“If I’m throwin’ myself at you, Bearcat, I’ll be removin’ myself. I only wanted my friendship to be helpful to you.”

“It is, Babe.”

Charlie cut in with a snarl.