The three walked round
him and exulted.
"He's simply ripping!" said the undergraduate.
"By gad, you've come out of it splendidly. You're as hard as a pebble,
and fit to fight for your life."
"Happen he's a trifle on the fine side," said the publican. "Runs a bit
light at the loins, to my way of thinking'."
"What weight to-day?"
"Ten stone eleven," the assistant answered.
"That's only three pund off in a week's trainin'," said the
horse-breaker. "He said right when he said that he was in condition.
Well, it's fine stuff all there is of it, but I'm none so sure as there
is enough." He kept poking his finger into Montgomery as if he were one
of his horses. "I hear that the Master will scale a hundred and sixty
odd at the ring-side."
"But there's some of that which he'd like well to pull off and leave
behind wi' his shirt," said Purvis. "I hear they've had a rare job to
get him to drop his beer, and if it had not been for that great
red-headed wench of his they'd never ha' done it. She fair scratted the
face off a potman that had brought him a gallon from t' 'Chequers.'
They say the hussy is his sparrin' partner, as well as his sweetheart,
and that his poor wife is just breakin' her heart over it. Hullo, young
'un, what do you want?"
The door of the gymnasium had opened and a lad, about sixteen, grimy and
black with soot and iron, stepped into the yellow glare of the oil lamp.
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