to meet upon the street.

Two years elapsed before the event transpired which proved
a crisis in Billy's life. During this period his existence had
been much the same as before. He had collected what was
coming to him from careless and less muscular citizens. He
had helped to stick up a half-dozen saloons. He had robbed
the night men in two elevated stations, and for a while had
been upon the pay-roll of a certain union and done strong
arm work in all parts of the city for twenty-five dollars a
week.

By day he was a general utility man about Larry Hilmore's
boxing academy, and time and time again Hilmore
urged him to quit drinking and live straight, for he saw
in the young giant the makings of a great heavy-weight;
but Billy couldn't leave the booze alone, and so the best that
he got was an occasional five spot for appearing in preliminary
bouts with third- and fourth-rate heavies and has-beens; but
during the three years that he had hung about Hilmore's he had
acquired an enviable knowledge of the manly art of self-defense.

On the night that things really began to happen in the
life of Billy Byrne that estimable gentleman was lolling in
front of a saloon at the corner of Lake and Robey. The
dips that congregated nightly there under the protection of
the powerful politician who owned the place were commencing
to assemble. Billy knew them all, and nodded to them
as they passed him. He noted surprise in the faces of several
as they saw him standing there. He wondered what it