"I just want
you to fight Kilrain, Johnny."
Fox? I ain't no henhouse to let a Fox into," he said, and everyone in the
Third Base Saloon roared.
do it for me," Fox went on. "Just fight him. That's what all the fancy
wants. Or are you too fat, Johnny? Too old?"
goddamn—" said Sullivan, reaching down to grab Fox. John L. had taken the
bait. Fox figured that Nuf Ced would jump in, and he did, but Fox didn't figure
that, faster still, his new friend Casey would spring to his feet. Casey shoved
Sullivan. The ale went flying, and the big fellow needed help from Smiler and
Rosie before he could regain his balance. He glared at Casey, at this
white-faced, clean-shaven bumpkin. "And who the hell are you, sonny?"
Casey didn't back
down. Indeed, he leaned forward a little, never taking his eyes off Sullivan.
"My name is Timothy F.X. Casey, and I can beat any sonofabitch in the
The Third Base
Saloon fell into a hush. "Is he serious?" Sullivan said at last.
serious?" Nuf Ced said. Pit-too.
Fox pulled at
Casey's sleeve. "You're not serious, are you?" he asked.
"Sure, for a
price. What are the odds on me?"
to one," Nuf Ced said. Pit-too.