a shoe in resin. He was too clean with most of the guys he fought—steppin' away with arms upraised out of the clinches and lettin' his man recover his balance from a chance stumble when even the customers was howlin' for him to knock the jobbie out. This bought referee's "warnin's" was just part of the frame to make the Kid lose, and I knew that as soon as the third man in the ring thought the time was ripe we'd be disqualified for "foulin'." Honest, as all this dawns on me I ain't fit to be at large!
Kid Roberts was cautious and slow to get started, Oliver takin' the first round by doin' most of the leadin'. A wicked and generally well-timed straight left kept the Kid's head bobbin' and soon had his face painted red. He followed my advice to keep in close after a bit and at infightin' he handled the champ like a baby, poundin' Oliver's ribs with short lefts and rights which didn't do the heavyweight king a bit of good. The honest referee soon noticed this, however, and rushin' nobly to Oliver's rescue, kept the men apart. Just after the bell Kid Roberts slipped half-ways to the mat in breakin' from a clinch and Oliver uppercut him with a terrible right whilst he was still off balance. A storm of booes and hisses come from the crowd and the champ sneered as he walked to his corner, leavin' the Kid dazed against the ropes.
A few douses of cold water, some expert massagin' at the back of his neck and the old ammonia bottle under his nose brung Kid Roberts around and I sent him out for Round Two with instructions to mail everything to Oliver's head and jaw. I'm double cer-
