fact that I was gonna send my kid in against a tough boiler maker named Paddy Kelly, which had likewise earned the ring titleof "Special Delivery," I happened to glance around and I seen the match maker and his boy friends lookin' after me and laughin' as if their hearts wouldst break. I give vent to a shiver and leaned over to the bartender.
"Have somethin' yourself," I says. "Ah—eh—what kind of a mauler is this guy Kelly?"
"Tough!" he says, shakin' his head from the one side to the other. "Terrible tough! He don't know nothin', but brother, he can hit like one of them pneumatical sledges, and he's a pig for chastisement. He's mingled with all the good ones, and none of 'em could do a thing with him in the regards to a knockout. They all half killed Kelly, but he was still in there swingin' with 'em at the final bell. It looks to me like that green kid of yours is scheduled for a pastin'!"
"It looks to me too!" I says, and proceeded on my way.
I drilled back to the hotel as cheerful as a yegg on his way to get sentenced, but I managed to bring forth a smile for the Kid. I told him I had grabbed a set-up for him named Kelly which called himself "Special Delivery" because he went out so quick, cleverly leavin' the slight detail that I had bet our end of the purse on a knock-out out of the conversation.
That Friday night, at the bewitchin' hour of ten, Kid Roberts climbed through the ropes at the Crescent A. C. of Sandusky, accompanied by me and
