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 Why, say, they's thousands of good citizens which can reel off your ring record and measurements and don't even know the plot of the Constitution!"

"You don't understand," says the Kid, patiently. "Perhaps your philosophy is right, but it would be useless to attempt to convert my father, and the caste he represents, to it. He would simply consider that I had dishonored the name of Halliday and that his own son had made a mock of him. When he went on the rocks through the perfidy of his most trusted friends it broke his heart, but not his spirit. He took his gruel like a gentleman and pinned his hopes in me. He is not a young man, and this second shock might kill him. Kane Halliday, prize fighter!" The Kid gives a shiver. "Gad. I can see his face now!" He gets up and takes a turn around the room.

"Look here," I says, gettin' up myself. "For two years you've allowed your old man to think you was a dude when it come to civilly engineerin'. Now, then, whether you're a fighter or a plumber, the fact that you ain't what you claimed to be is what's goin' to hit the old man, ain't it? Sure! Therefore the thing is to make it look like you was a beaucoup civil engineer till you win the title. Then you can come clean, all will be forgiven, and no harm done! Get me?"

"But if—" says the Kid wildly.

"Shut up," I says. "This joint's a gentlemen's club and not no gymnasium! Now what we'll do is to hire a office somewheres. I can fix that up with any one of the Jersey promoters and we'll paint your name on the door, plaster the place with maps and whatever a civil engineer works with. Fine! You show that to