He stopped abruptly and confusedly.
"Now, Billy, what have you got up your sleeve?--I can see it in
your eyes," Saxon demanded and indicted in mixed metaphors.
"Well, Saxon, you see, it's like this. Sandow ain't satisfied.
He's madder 'n a hatter. Never got one punch at me. Never had a
chance to make a showin', an' he wants a return match. He's
blattin' around town that he can lick me with one hand tied
behind 'm, an' all that kind of hot air. Which ain't the point.
The point is, the fight-fans is wild to see a return-match. They
didn't get a run for their money last time. They'll fill the
house. The managers has seen me already. That was why I was so
long. They's three hundred more waitin' on the tree for me to
pick two weeks from last night if you'll say the word. It's just
the same as I told you before. He's my meat. He still thinks I 'm
a rube, an' that it was a fluke punch."
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