described by the yelling crowd as "groggy."

When time was called the Bruiser was speedily on his feet. His face did
not present the repulsive appearance so visible on the countenance of
his opponent, but the Bruiser had experience enough to know that the
body blows received in this fight had had their effect on his wind and
staying powers; and that although the Chicken presented an appalling
appearance with his swollen lips and cheeks, and his eyes nearly
closed, yet he was in better trim for continuing the battle than the
Bruiser.

The Chicken came up to the mark less promptly than his big antagonist,
but whether it was from weakness or lack of sight, he seemed uncertain
in his movements, and the hearts of his backers sank as they saw him
stagger rather than walk to his place.

Before the Chicken, as it were, fully waked up to the situation, the
Bruiser lunged forward and planted a blow on his temple that would have
broken the guard of a man who was in better condition than the Chicken.
The Yorkshireman fell like a log, and lay where he fell. Then the
Bruiser got a lesson which terrified him. A sickly ashen hue came over
the purple face of the man on the ground. The Bruiser had expected some
defence, and the terrible blow had been even more powerful than he
intended. A shivering whisper went round the crowd, "He is killed," and
instantly the silenced mob quietly scattered. It was every man for
himself before the authorities took a hand in the game.

The Bruiser stood there swaying from side to side, his gaze fixed upon
the prostrate man. He saw himself indicted and hanged for murder, and
he swore that if the Chicken recovered he would never again enter the