“That’s up to my judgment. Bearcat Delaney’s under contract to me and I’m the judge of what’s the wise thing in his case. I told you what I expected. from you, soon as this fight was over. If the Bearcat wants to bust his contract, that’s different. You better be breezin’ along. I got business with the kid.”

“I wouldn’t have nobody break up a contract over me,” Babe said with apparent sincerity.

“No,” sneered Charlie. “Not when it means dough to you.”

Babe paused near the door.

“If you only knew somethin’ besides being hard-boiled, Charlie, you’d be a success. Congratulations, Bearcat. The trick stuff you pulled. in the first and last rounds was pretty. That’s the kind of stuff your manager ought to give you all the time. Don’t be bad friends over me.” Babe drifted. out the door.

The Bearcat moved as if to follow her, but then stopped and turned to Charlie. His voice had a hurt note in it.

“What the hell’s got into you, Charlie?”

“Let’s go to the hotel,” was the vague answer.

The lobby of the Nelson was filled with Charlie’s friends—fighters, baseball players, theatrical managers—all dropping in to congratulate him on his new find. A well known theatrical producer who had been a fight promoter himself told Charlie he hadn’t seen anything as classy as the Bearcat since Sullivan.

The producer took them over to Reuben’s for a bite and there the future of the Bearcat was debated and prophesied to an indisputable certainty. Even the “ifs” were not brought up as obstacles. Bearcat’s future was measured with the yard stick of fame.

VIII THE BEARCAT LOOKS IN HIS MIRROR

THE BEARCAT was moody and little interested in the plans these wise guys were drawing up for his future. He got no kick out of their extravagant flattery, so he was silent and sullen, wondering why in Hell he couldn’t be left alone to run his own life, at least in so far as Babe was concerned.

All he really cared about at the moment was the party planned to celebrate his victory, up in Joe Malone’s hotel room, where the Babe was waiting.

There was no happiness for him in anything that could happen outside of her realm. She had captured more than his body, for she dominated his thoughts and fired his imagination.

Charlie knew this and feared for the result. He knew that self-interest was the key to success. That where a world’s championship was the objective, the aspirant had to concentrate selfishly on himself, that every atom of energy had to be carefully preserved to drive the will to the desired end. You had to conserve the whole of your vitality, guard it jealously, give none of yourself away.