occupied a position in the coming champion's corner.
When the prize fighter toured, Billy continued to hang around
Hilmore's place, running errands and doing odd jobs, the
while he picked up pugilistic lore, and absorbed the spirit of the
game along with the rudiments and finer points of its science,
almost unconsciously. Then his ambition changed. Once he
had longed to shine as a gunman; now he was determined
to become a prize fighter; but the old gang still saw much of
him, and he was a familiar figure about the saloon corners
along Grand Avenue and Lake Street.

During this period Billy neglected the box cars on Kinzie
Street, partially because he felt that he was fitted for more
dignified employment, and as well for the fact that the railroad
company had doubled the number of watchmen in the yards;
but there were times when he felt the old yearning for
excitement and adventure. These times were usually coincident
with an acute financial depression in Billy's change pocket,
and then he would fare forth in the still watches of the
night, with a couple of boon companions and roll a souse,
or stick up a saloon.

It was upon an occasion of this nature that an event
occurred which was fated later to change the entire course
of Billy Byrne's life. Upon the West Side the older gangs are
jealous of the sanctity of their own territory. Outsiders
do not trespass with impunity. From Halsted to Robey, and
from Lake to Grand lay the broad hunting preserve of Kelly's
gang, to which Billy had been almost born, one might say.
Kelly owned the feed-store back of which the gang had loafed