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Show the twentieth round completely discouraged discour-aged and exhausted - ' "I can't hit him at all" said John L. "He's too fast." "You'll finish him in another round," said his seconds, . still jollying the old fellow. ' "Finish nobody!" was the hot-tempered reply. "Ill b the one that'll get the finish." The end came in the twenty-first round. Sullivan's legs were gone, and under a new fusillade of punches he soon fell to the floor, down and out. Hundreds in the crowd could not believe be-lieve their eyes. All over the country, when the flash came, "Sullivan knocked out!" there was a tendency to await a confirmation before crediting the startling start-ling news. Then when it became a fact that Sullivan's light had gone out, there was general sorrow. He Made No Excuses. The big fellow had manfully congratulated congra-tulated his young conqnerer before ha tottered from the ring that night, and he made an army of new friends after ward be refraining from 'making excuses. ex-cuses. He also baa the good sense to retire from the ring, convinced that he was a back number. "I can hit as hard as ever," said John L. Sullivan cne day last week, ' 'but I am not as spry on my feet as X used to be." Sullivan has aged' in appearance ap-pearance In the last two years, and is ' now an old man. Bis hair is white and his mustache gray, but his voice has lost nothing in power or deepness. When Corbett challenged the "Big Fellow" his audacity caused surprise. The "gentleman boxer" had won some fame in California by fighting a long draw with Peter Jackson, but that, in the estimation of Sullivan's loyal fol-lowers, fol-lowers, did not entitle him to a match with the Boston '.'Strong Boy." Training for Corbett, "He wants to fight me, eh!" growled Sullivan when he. heard of Corbett 's challenge. "Well, all . the - training I need is a hair eut and, a shave to beat his head off in a round! V" "This Corbett is a fast young fel-, fel-, low," said Charley Johnson, one of John L.'s backers, "and I think you'd better not make it too easy." "Keep quiet," roared the Bostonian. "I know my business!" So Sullivan went to Canoe Place inn, down in Long Island, to go through the motions of training. Phil Casey, the champion handball player," now dead, was sent along with Bullivan to direct his work. Before Casey had been at the quarters a week he learned, much to his disgust, that Sullivan was the master. John L. had never allowed any man to dictate tn him before, and ha did not intend that Casey should begin then. ' As a result the Dig pugilist, who tipped the scales at 240 pounds when he went to Canoe Place inn, declared with much emphasis that he would reduce re-duce his weight by road work rather than by handball playing, and that he would take a drink whenever he craved for one. Many a time poor Casey was awakened from a sound sleep after that to find gullivan busy with the growl late at night. But Casey knew enough . roVo cross the champion, so he held his . jue. 1 Friends Oood-Bye. v . he time had arrived for Sullivan to leave on a special train for New Orleans. Or-leans. A great crowd fallowed him to the depot, and loud cheers went up as Sullivan boarded the cars, waving farewell fare-well to the mob. He was clean shaven then, his iron jaw and great fists, creat-' creat-' ing a general feeling of awe on all sides. "Ill knock this young dub out in a puneb," said John L., "and be back on Broadway in a few days to Bet the town on "flrel" When they got into the ring there ( was a great crowd around the four sides of the - arena. Sullivan, with the old scowl that used to frighten his oppo- fients almost out of their senses, took a ong, lingering look at the pale-faced, . nervous young man in the opposite rorner, and then, turning to Jimmy ' Wakely and Charles Johnson, he said, scared to death now. He'll be easy." Made Wild Bosh. With a fierce growl and a black look, calculated to terrorize an ordinary per-lon, per-lon, the big champion came after Corbett Cor-bett in lumbering style, at the same time aiming a pile-driving blow for the head. Quick as lightning Corbett stepped back, and then, with equal celerity, ce-lerity, he smashed John between the ryes with sharp left, at the same time punching him in the stomach with a right. Those blows made Corbett fairly blaze with confidence. He laughed as Sullivan swung wildly and missed, after which Corbett fairly peppered the old fellow's face with cutting jabs and , jolts. ; "Can't Hit Him," Said John. It was a slaughter, slow but sure. Corbett, never a hard hitter, proceeded tomake the once mighty man from Boston Bos-ton look like a green novice in point of irienre. It was such a pitiful exhibition t;ie part of Sullivan that some of the K .ghtrt customers at the ringside W.rned aTv and wiped the tears out of their eyes. The one-sided affair dragged on, round after round, until Sullivan, I enable to land one of his heavy blows, Lrsme back to his corner at the end of |