Outside, Charlie brushed against Malone who was headed for the Bearcat’s dressing room.

“Tough break,” Malone said to him.

“Yeah, ain’t it?” Charlie replied with a sneer. This was the third fighter Babe Gordon had spoiled for him, and the Bearcat had really been championship stuff. When he thought of it, the desire to kill entered his heart. “I’ve never wanted to hit a woman in my life before, but if I meet that dame now, I’ll break her jaw. Damn her soul to hell! It’s enough to bust a guy wide open!”

He avoided friends and reporters as he walked morosely to his hotel.

Malone found the Bearcat sitting with his head in his hands. The Bearcat had never cried since he had been a child, but he certainly felt like it now. Malone placed his hand on his shoulder.

“It’s the breaks of the game, kid,” he said. “Too bad. But the next time you’ll make up for it. Say, Babe’s all broke up over it. She’s waitin’ for you out in the car. She felt too bad to come in. I’ll go out and sit with her a while. How long you gonna be?”

The Bearcat raised his head for the first time and looked at Joe.

“I’ll be right out, Joe.”

Joe didn’t wait for him.

The Bearcat sat in a daze. What had happened? Where was the admiring crowd? Where were the slaps on the back? Where the newspapermen, questioning him about his future plans? He was alone in his dressing room. What was the matter with him? He just couldn’t get started tonight. Maybe, after all, Charlie was right.

Babe kissed him when he joined her and Malone in the car. She was driving.

“How about goin’ down to Jack’s Chop House for a while?” she suggested. “Just to have a few drinks to quiet your nerves and cheer you up. Sittin’ around the hotel room will give you the blues.”

“All right,” the Bearcat acquiesced. “Anywhere you say. Maybe you’re right. A couple of drinks would help, the way I feel now.”

“Sure,” said Malone. “No use gettin’ yourself stewed up over what can’t be helped.”

“But it could be helped, Joe,” said the Bearcat. “I had no business to lose that fight. I don’t know what the devil’s the matter with me.”

Babe slowed up for a traffic light.

“Can’t Charlie get you a return engagement?”

“Charlie and me is through!”

“Don’t be foolish,” Babe said, quickly. “Tell him you was sick or something. Let him spread it in the papers that you wasn’t feelin’ right when you went into the ring. Took sick all of a sudden. Charlie could fix up another match!”