you to shake hands with--"

"Bo," exclaimed the Spider, rising reverently and taking a step toward
Joe's massive figure, quite forgetful of the pink hearthrug now, "you
don't have t' tell me nothin'. I guess I know th' best all-round
fightin' man, the greatest champion as ever swung a mitt, when I see
him! T' shake his hand'll sure be--"

"Young feller, me lad," cried the Old Un, reaching out nimbly and
catching the Spider's extended hand, "you got a sharp eye, a true eye--a
eye as can discrimpinate, like--ah, like a flash o' light. You're right,
me lad, I was the best fightin' man, the greatest champeen as ever
was--sixty odd years ago. Ho, yus, I were the best of 'em all, an' I
ain't t' be sniffed at now. So shake me 'and, me lad--an' shake--hard!"

The Spider's grim jaw relaxed, and his eyes opened very wide as the Old
Un continued to shake his hand up and down.

"But, say," said he faintly at last, "I don't--"

"No more don't I," nodded the Old Un, "what's the old song say:

"'I don't care if it rains or snows
Or what the day may be
Since 'ere's a truth I plainly knows
Love, you'll remember me.'"

"But say," began the bewildered Spider again. "Say, I reckon--"

"So do I," nodded the Old Un: