It seemed that there were those who did. Very well, please step into

the ring. I can't accept shouted comments. Jock's attitude was

understandable he stood to lose a considerable sum if his decision were

reversed. But Sean was patrolling the ropes as hungrily as a lion at

feeding time. Jock waited a decent interval, then held up Sean's right

arm.

, The winner, ten minutes for refreshments before the next bout. Will

the keepers please come and fetch their property He gestured towards the

Portuguese. Nice going laddie, unorthodox perhaps but beautiful to

watch Duff took Sean's arm and led him to a chair on the veranda. Three

more to go, then we can call it a day. He handed Sean a glass. What's

this? Orange juice. I'd prefer something a little stronger Later,

laddie. Duff collected the Portuguese purse and dropped it into the

Valise while that gentleman was being carried from the ring by his

straining sponsors and laid to rest at the far end of the veranda.

Mr Anthony Blair was next. His heart was not in the encounter. He

moved Prettily enough on his feet but always in the direction best

calculated to keep him out of reach of Sean's fists. The boy's a

natural long-distance champWatch it, Courtney, he'll run you to

deathLast lap, Blair, once more round the ring and you've done five

miles. The chase ended when Sean, now sweating gently, herded him in a

corner and there dispatched him.

The third challenger had by this time developed a pain in his chest. It

hurts like you wouldn't believe it, he announced through gritted teeth.

Does it sort of gurgle in your lungs as you breatheV

asked Francois. Yes, that's it, gurgles like you wouldn't believe

itPleurisy, diagnosed du Toit with more than a trace of envy in his

voice.

Is that bad? theman asked anxiously. Yes it is. Page one hundred and

Sixteen. The treatment I won't be able to fight, Hell, thats bad luck

the invalid complained cheerfully It's exceptionally bad luck, agreed

Duff. It means you'll have to forfeit your purse money. You wouldn't

take advantage of a sick man? Try me Duff suggested pleasantly The

fourth contestant was a German. Big, blond and happy-faced. He

stumbled three or four times on his way to the ring, tripped over the

rones and crawled to his corner on hands and knees; once there he was

able to regain his feet with a little help from the ring post. Jock

went close to him to smell his breath and before he could dodge, the

German caught him in a bear hug and led him into the opening steps of a

waltz. The crowd loved it and there were no objections when at the end

of the dance lock declared Sean the winner on a technical knockout.

More correctly the decision should have gone to Candy who had provided

the free drinks. We can close down the circus now if you want to,

laddie, Duff told Sean. You've made enough to keep the Candy Deep

afloat for another couple of months. I haven't had a single good fight

out of the lot of them.

But I like the looks of this last one. The others were for business;

this one I'll have just for the hell of it. You've been magnificent,

now you deserve a little fun, agreed Duff.

Mr Timothy Curtis. Heavyweight champion of Georgia, U. S. A. Jock