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Updated: June 6, 2025
He occasionally feinted, shook his head when the weight of a punch landed, and moved stolidly about, never leaping or springing or wasting an ounce of strength. Sandel must foam the froth of Youth away before discreet Age could dare to retaliate. All King's movements were slow and methodical, and his heavy-lidded, slow-moving eyes gave him the appearance of being half asleep or dazed.
"Yeh ain't afraid of 'im, are yeh?" "Muscle-bound," he heard a man on a front seat comment. "He can't move quicker. Two to one on Sandel, in quids." The gong struck and the two men advanced from their corners. Sandel came forward fully three-quarters of the distance, eager to begin again; but King was content to advance the shorter distance. It was in line with his policy of economy.
Rudman was succeeded by Justus Falckner, who was ordained November 25, 1703, in the Swedish Gloria Dei Church of Wicaco, by Rudman, Bjoerk, and Sandel, the first Lutheran ordination in America.
They were not heavy blows, yet so weak and dazed was Sandel that he went down and lay quivering. The referee stood over him, shouting the count of the fatal seconds in his ear. If before the tenth second was called, he did not rise, the fight was lost. The house stood in hushed silence. King rested on trembling legs.
And a piece of steak was such a little thing, a few pennies at best; yet it meant thirty quid to him. With the gong that opened the eleventh round, Sandel rushed, making a show of freshness which he did not really possess. King knew it for what it was a bluff as old as the game itself. He clinched to save himself, then, going free, allowed Sandel to get set. This was what King desired.
So accurately was it timed that it landed squarely on Sandel's face in the full, downward sweep of the duck, and Sandel lifted in the air and curled backward, striking the mat on his head and shoulders. Twice King achieved this, then turned loose and hammered his opponent to the ropes.
If Sandel made a showing, he would be given better men to fight, with bigger purses to win; so it was to be depended upon that he would put up a fierce battle. He had everything to win by it money and glory and career; and Tom King was the grizzled old chopping-block that guarded the highway to fame and fortune.
If the fight had been stopped, the referee, perforce, would have rendered him the decision and the purse would have been his. Unlike Sandel, he was not fighting for glory or career, but for thirty quid. And now Sandel would recuperate in the minute of rest.
"As how 'e was thinkin' Sandel ud do ye to-night, an' as how yer score was comfortable big as it was." Tom King grunted, but did not reply. He was busy thinking of the bull terrier he had kept in his younger days to which he had fed steaks without end. Burke would have given him credit for a thousand steaks then. But times had changed.
When he opened his eyes again he was in his corner, and he heard the yelling of the audience like the roar of the surf at Bondi Beach. A wet sponge was being pressed against the base of his brain, and Sid Sullivan was blowing cold water in a refreshing spray over his face and chest. His gloves had already been removed, and Sandel, bending over him, was shaking his hand.
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