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 you know how fast this Lang is and how he can sock. Well, in the third round, Ryan hit Lang on the jaw so hard he throwed Lang's knee out of joint!"

"And Lang outweighed Ryan a good fifteen pounds!" chimes in Knockout Kelly. "If I was you, Gale, P'd forget about Hurricane Ryan, because in a scuffle with that baby the best you can look for is the worst of it, no foolin'! A champ is a chump to go out of his class into a heavier one for a fight. You know the old sayin', 'A good big man can always beat a good little man!' Outside of the time you and Frankie Jackson hit the mat together, you never been knocked cold in your life—why go out of your way to get kayoed?"

"Listen, you couple of crape hangers," I says. "I'm going to keep riding Hurricane Ryan till he agrees to battle me and if you think I'm kidding you're crazy! To hear you dumbells talk you'd think I was a pushover. You don't see none of 'em get up and laugh when I sock 'em, do you? Well, Ryan won't get up either. I seen him step a couple of times and I think he's a mark for a right hook—my right hook! After I smack him a couple of times him being bigger than me won't mean anything, because he'll be bent over to my size if not lower, and don't think he won't. Anyways, even if he knocks me kicking I'll still be light-heavyweight champ, because Ryan can't make the weight in that class. If I stop him I'll be world's heavyweight champion—I'll hold two titles, think of that!"

"Well," says Nate, "I think you're cuckoo myself, but I will say this much—when a Gale and a Hurricane