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The Croxley Master: A Great Tale Of The Prize Ring
The Croxley Master: A Great Tale Of The Prize Ring
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This boxing story was written in 1907. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle believed that boxing was a "manly sport," and wrote many stories concerning prize fighting, such as; The Lord of Falconbridge, The Bully of Brocas Court, and The Croxley Master.
He might fail from want of skill or strength, but deep in his somber soul he vowed that it should never be from want of heart. - The Croxley Master
The Publisher has copy-edited this book to improve the formatting, style and accuracy of the text to make it readable. This did not involve changing the substance of the text.
Excerpt:
....."We want you to fight Silas Craggs, better known as the Master of Croxley."
....."But why?"
....."Because Ted Barton was to have fought him next Saturday. He was the champion of the Wilson coal-pits, and the other was the Master of the iron-folk down at the Croxley smelters. We'd matched our man for a purse of a hundred against the Master. But you've queered our man, and he can't face such a battle with a two-inch cut at the back of his head. There's only one thing to be done, sir, and that is for you to take his place. If you can lick Ted Barton you may lick the Master of Croxley; but if you don't we're done, for there's no one else who is in the same street with him in this district. It's twenty rounds, two-ounce gloves, Queensbury rules, and a decision on points if you fight to the finish."
He might fail from want of skill or strength, but deep in his somber soul he vowed that it should never be from want of heart. - The Croxley Master
The Publisher has copy-edited this book to improve the formatting, style and accuracy of the text to make it readable. This did not involve changing the substance of the text.
Excerpt:
....."We want you to fight Silas Craggs, better known as the Master of Croxley."
....."But why?"
....."Because Ted Barton was to have fought him next Saturday. He was the champion of the Wilson coal-pits, and the other was the Master of the iron-folk down at the Croxley smelters. We'd matched our man for a purse of a hundred against the Master. But you've queered our man, and he can't face such a battle with a two-inch cut at the back of his head. There's only one thing to be done, sir, and that is for you to take his place. If you can lick Ted Barton you may lick the Master of Croxley; but if you don't we're done, for there's no one else who is in the same street with him in this district. It's twenty rounds, two-ounce gloves, Queensbury rules, and a decision on points if you fight to the finish."
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