WE MAKE A HIT 147 



A conference was hurriedly held and a com- 

 mittee sent in search of my brother and myself. 

 They stated that they had been sent to find out 

 whether either of us had any knowledge of ring 

 rules; that, being strangers in town and not 

 biased on the issue, they thought that one of us 

 would make a satisfactory referee if we thought 

 we could handle the situation. My brother turned 

 them over to me. While I had never acted in the 

 capacity of a referee, I had had considerable ring 

 experience, having on one occasion trained 

 Johnnie Madden (one time bantam weight cham- 

 pion of the world), against big odds in his fight 

 with Kid Mitchell of Mexico City. Besides this, 

 I had faced a few battlers myself, and I felt that 

 I could handle a match between a couple of "bush 

 leaguers" like these all right. 



When I informed them of all this, they literally 

 dragged me over to the scene of action, where I 

 found a mob of fans squatted on the rafters, on 

 binders, hay-loaders, windmills, and every other 

 kind of equipment with which the warehouse was 

 filled. In the center of the floor a make-shift ring 

 had been set, and everything was ready for the 

 bell. 



I pulled off my coat, rolled up my sleeves, and 

 called the participants into one corner to get the 

 conditions of the scrap and agree on rules. We 

 then discovered that the cow puncher needed a 

 "second," and my brother was selected to act in 

 that capacity at my request. I wanted him handy 

 in case it ended in a rough-house, and this was 

 about as handy as I could wish. 



