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 place, as they didn't want the "poet" killed. They figured he'd get right down on his knees and plead to be let go, bein' only too glad to flee from Hermit Inn immediately. They was in no way prepared for the stunnin' shock of what happened within the next few minutes, I'll tell the cross-eyed world that!

Ptomaine bellered to be allowed to fight this so-called "Kid Roberts" or any two of the football team, but nobody give him service. The real Kid Roberts was insane with anger at his kidnappin' and hazin' and he was also smokin' hot over his blank cartridge tradin' on his name and reputation at Hermit Inn. He pulled on the gloves and reached the guy claimin' his name in one leap. A swift feint with his lightnin' left, almost too fast for the eye to follow, then—sock! The right which once won him a world's championship crosses to the button and this impostor went down as if shot through the head. He couldn't of got up if he'd of been called to the presidency!

Whilst the dumfounded football players is gazin' in absolute amazement at the mighty "Kid Roberts" flattened by a single punch from the despised "poet," the ragin' Kid whirls around on 'em and invites the entire team to give him a battle, one at a time or all at once, he don't give a whoop which!

With one accord, the gang looks expectantly at big Jim Barnaby, just as Eva Littleton arrives on the scene to stare wide-eyed at the picture which met her frightened gaze. The alleged "Kid Roberts" prostrate on the ground as cold as a loan shark's heart, me and Ptomaine almost beside him and tied hand