TOD SLOAN 



thought he might be out against a ringer ! Hawkins 

 and I made it up in after years, but he had heard the 

 full story long before that. 



I had a coloured valet, Dick Keys, of whom I have 

 spoken : he thought he could fight too, but he had no 

 heart — or " guts," if I may use rather a vulgar ex- 

 pression. Fred Taral, the jockey, was a rival just 

 then of mine, and was sore with me about several things, 

 chief of which being the fact that I had replaced him 

 in riding Hamburg. There was still more jealousy and 

 enmity between Dick Keys and Taral's coloured valet. 

 In fact it grew worse and worse as day followed day. 

 At all events a match was made between the two. 

 Willie Sims, the coloured rider, known both in France 

 and England, asked me about my valet, and I told 

 him that he had no real stamina and wouldn't stay. 

 " Never mind," said Willie, " we've got to win ; we'll 



win." 



The two were both heavy fellows and outwardly 

 they looked a good match. Sims said again, when 

 the match drew near : " We'll have to win." 



It took place at the Coney Island Athletic Club. 

 Willie Sims was in Keys' corner ; the match was 

 four rounds. The two boxers looked like a pair of 

 chimpanzees when brought in ; I never saw such a 

 picture, they shaped and crouched just as if they ought 

 to have been up a tree, or in a Zoo. 



Taral's nigger led off and let Keys have some 

 beauties, although neither of them knew anything 

 about fighting. Wallop, wallop — ^how my man got it ! 

 I thought he would have been " dead " in the first 

 round, but he scraped through somehow. Willie 

 Sims whispered encouragement to him and in he went 

 for the second. Wliat the other nig. had done to him 

 in the first was nothing to what he handed out in the 



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