The force with which he had hit
his head on the iron had left him dazed.
Walton rushed in as before. He had no chivalrous desire to spare his
man by way of compensation for fouling him. What monopolised his
attention was the evident fact that Kennedy was in a bad way, and that
a little strenuous infighting might end the affair in the desired
manner.
It was at this point that Kennedy had reason to congratulate himself
on donning gymnasium shoes. They gave him that extra touch of
lightness which enabled him to dodge blows which he was too weak to
parry. Everything was vague and unreal to him. He seemed to be looking
on at a fight between Walton and some stranger.
Then the effect of his fall began to wear off. He could feel himself
growing stronger. Little by little his head cleared, and he began once
more to take a personal interest in the battle. It is astonishing what
a power a boxer, who has learnt the art carefully, has of automatic
fighting. The expert gentleman who fights under the pseudonym of "Kid
M'Coy" once informed the present writer that in one of his fights he
was knocked down by such a severe hit that he remembered nothing
further, and it was only on reading the paper next morning that he
found, to his surprise, that he had fought four more rounds after the
blow, and won the battle handsomely on points.
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