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Updated: May 11, 2025
He couldn't say because he knew they considered Holliday, young, wicked, punishing, even more certain to whip him. He hesitated. "But you're going to whip Holliday," Dunham went on tentatively, as if sure of what was in the other's mind. Perry watched him. "We're going to see to that. It'll be a twenty-round fight to a decision. Somewhere in the South.
"What competition was that?" asked Sheen. Mr Bevan laughed. "It was a twenty-round contest, sir, for seven-fifty aside and the Light Weight Championship of the World." Sheen looked at him in astonishment. He had always imagined professional pugilists to be bullet-headed and beetle-browed to a man. He was not prepared for one of Mr Joe Bevan's description.
As they started off for the hotel he declared that he would be willing to give ten dollars for a good twenty-round fight, as a counter-irritant. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself!" cried Hillard. "I know it. It's like caviar; the taste has to grow. I'm capable of only a limited artistic education, Jack; so feed me slowly." "You're in love."
And not one in forty can go the twenty-round route, give and take, hammer and tongs, one minute of rest to three of fight, for a full hour of fighting. And the lad who can last forty rounds is one in ten thousand lads like Nelson, Gans, and Wolgast. "You understand the point I am making," Paula took up. "Here are the pair of you. Neither will see forty again. You're a pair of hard- bitten sinners.
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