Chapter 4
MADISON SQUARE GARDEN was packed to the ring-curb. Every ticket had been sold. Seventeen thousand people thronged the long tiers of seats, rising in two levels above the arena floor. The Garden, a vast rectangular frame of steel encased in grey concrete, was gay tonight with lights and coloured bunting and the flags of all nations.
Colonel Robinson led us to Box Eighty, which is in the centre of the Forty-ninth Street side, adjoining a wide arena entrance through which performers come and go. Our box was directly in front of the middle ring, with a clear view of everything. Betty and Dougherty's toothless nephews occupied the front chairs; in the second row sat Thatcher Colt, Dougherty, and myself. After escorting us to our places, Colonel Robinson hastened off, promising to re
