Two middle-sized menwelter-weightslooking small in the big ring at Madison Square Garden, under a motionless pour of white light like metallic milk, scuffed and bobbed and perked and knuckled. One was named Joe Dundee, the other Eddie Roberts. A month ago Roberts knocked Dundee out in one round. Wise people did not think he could do it again. The betting was even. Well did little Dundee show that he deserved this confidence when, after taking a count of eight in the fourth round, he came out of his corner like a loose propeller, pounded...
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