The cabin door was open and warm amber light spilled out into the
blackness. All the boys were out by this time, getting into their
coveralls and stamping around and making the usual newspaper chatter.
As I came up, the _Post_ said: "We brung your opposition along,
Carmichael--Hogan of the _Trib_."
The _News_ said: "Now's as good a time as any for the wrasslin' match,
eh? You been in training, Carmichael?" His voice had a nasty snigger
to it and I thought: "Oh-ho, this Hogan probably scales two twenty and
he'll mop me up, but very good--to the great satisfaction, no doubt, of
my confrere from the _News_."
Only when they shoved Hogan forward, he wasn't so big, so I thought:
"At a time like this--let's get it over with fast." I took a little
sprint through the dark and grabbed Hogan around the chest and dumped
him to the ground.