From then on, calculated Carpentier, "there was only one thing for me to do—finish beautifully." That was easier said than done. In the fourth, Dempsey accelerated with murder in his eye. Carpentier recalls: "He hit me everywhere. On the flanks, arms, shoulders, head. Any place was good for a punch. My legs weaken. I fall. I hurt all over but . . . I'm perfectly lucid." He rose at nine, took a left to the face and a right punch to the heart, and that was the end. He was counted out. He recalls that he got up before Dempsey could help him: "I tried to keep face.... I didn't want to make an exhibition of my sadness."
That, for all intents and purposes, was the end of Georges Carpentier, lucky pug, though he did fight a few more times—losing to Battling Siki in Paris and Tommy Gibbons in Michigan City, Ind. But it was not the end of Kid Galahad at all. After Dempsey ruined him, the New York Times sympathetically reported: "As a fighter he was beaten but as a boxer he remains superior." England's Prime Minister Lloyd George sent him a cable: "I admire you more than ever." To this day, Carpentier's customers regard him as a noble warrior indeed. Does this tale dramatize those rousing words of Georges Jacques Danton to the French legislature in 1792: "De l'audace, et encore de l'audace, et toujours de l'audace!"? Or does it simply prove that the Yellow Kid Weil was right when he said: "You can't knock a good mark"? Well, anyway, Dempsey was one rough customer.