The afternoon of the night I was to fight Corbett we crossed over from Oakland - the three of us, McGrath, the Spider and I - and went to the old Windsor Hotel, corner of Fifth and Market. There I landed among friends - hundreds of them. I actually think that there was nobody left in Vallejo that day - everybody had come over to see me fight.

                  Mrs. Jim Gillren, who owned the hotel, and who, I am told, is now living in San Jose, took personal charge of me.

                  "Ah, Tom, me b'y," she said, "there's nothin' to it. Listen. I've sent $20 to the poolroom to bet that you'll knock the stuffin' out of this Corbett."

                  Mrs. Gillren then led the way to the dining room and made us sit down to dinner. She is a fine woman and a good friend.

                  We went to Mechanic's Pavilion at an early hour and found it filled to the rafters. Danny Lynch was busy at the box office and did not have time to see me. I went straight to my dressing room and remained there with Tim McGrath and the Spider until some man stuck his head in the door and announced that it was time to enter the ring.

CORBETT FAVORITE
                  I got a cheer from my Vallejo friends as I went down the aisle. Corbett, as was his custom, did not show up until twenty minutes later. He figured that by keeping me waiting he would make me nervous.

                  When Corbett finally did show up I thought the crowd would tear the roof off the place with their cheers.

                  Corbett took off his bathrobe, folded it very carefully and then walked to the center of the ring, where I was waiting to pose for a picture. As he came up close he reached over quickly and, grabbing my hand, attempted to jerk me toward him.

                  "Stand over here," he said.

                  It so happened, however, that just before I left my dressing room Spider Kelly had warned me that Corbett would attempt to get my goat. When he tried to jerk me, therefore, I was ready for him.

                  "No," I said, "stand over here." And with that I jerked back and almost yanked his arm out.

CARR REFEREES
                  I should have explained that when Corbett came to the ring he had no towels or buckets. He thought the fight would be over so quickly that he would not need such things. His second-in-chief was George Green, the present boxing instructor of the Olympic club, the original Young Corbett.

                  Billy Jordan introduced Corbett as "a native son of California and champion of the world." I thought the house was coming down the way the crowd cheered.

                  I was introduced as "the pride of the American navy" and received a few hand claps.

                  Frank Carr, who is still in business in San Francisco, was referee. He told us that there should be no hitting in the clinches, and we both understood that when we went to our corners.

                  But no sooner did we go into the first clinch then Corbett, ignoring the referee's instructions, let go a punch that landed flush on my eye. That punch gave me the only black eye I ever had in my entire ring career.

TOM AGGRESSIVE
                  Naturally I expected that Carr would at least say something to Corbett about having disregarded his order, and when he didn't it made me so mad that I forgot all about Corbett being the world's champion.

                  I put my head down and sailed in, not caring how or where I landed, nor how many times Corbett landed on me. All I knew was that I had been struck an unfair punch and that I ought to clean the fellow who struck me.

                  The first three rounds were pretty much alike - me digging in all the time and Corbett doing his best to avoid me and at the same time making a pretense of boxing cleverly.

                  When I went to my corner at the end of the third round it was to fall into the hands of a pair of crazy men.

                  "You've got him, Tom!" screamed McGrath, "You've got him!"

                  "You're champion of the world!" screamed the Spider. "You're the champion!"

REFEREE HOLDS
                  Then the two pounced on me, sat me on the stool, and such rubbing I never got in my life.

                  "Now," said Tim, "when the bell rings you run out there and beat him down. Don't stop for anything - just sail in, and punch!"

                  And the Spider - I don't know all he did say. He just kept talking about how I had won the championship.

                  At the sound of the bell I took Tim's advice and ran. I met Corbett coming out of his corner, and pumped punches into him so fast that he staggered back, and the crowd came to its feet as one man.

                  Then something funny happened. As I began getting at Corbett good and hard, when he was actually groggy, Frank Carr, the referee, got to holding me back. On the slightest pretext he took hold of my arms and tried to keep me from hitting Corbett.

BOUT STOPPED
                  I became so furious at the evident favoritism being shown Corbett that I finally rushed in with all my might, not only taking Corbett to the floor with me, but the referee as well.

                  Now, here I wish to say something in a spirit of fairness. It has been said that when this happened Corbett called on the police to save him his championship.

                  I did not hear Corbett call. I don't believe he did utter a sound with his mouth. But persons around the ringside, a score of them, told me that they saw him nod to Captain Wittman.

                  And whether he did or not, there is no question as to the fight being stopped and the fight being declared a draw. And neither will anyone who saw the fight argue that Corbett could have gone another round.

                  There was a lot of money bet that Corbett would knock me out. And you could have written your own ticket at any odds if you though Corbett would not get the decision.

                  The action of the police in stopping the fight when they did saved a great deal of money. We still had a minute to go, and Corbett was a very wobbly man when he went to his corner. Much might have happened even in that one minute had we been permitted to go on.