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 by's heart, and, the gridiron performer tried to clinch, but the Kid beat him off with crushin' jabs to face and body. Barnaby's face was now a crimson smear and his knees was quiverin' in time with the twitchin' muscles of his broad back. He swung wildly with left and right, but Kid Roberts ducked these desperate efforts with ease, counterin' with straight lefts which was just remodelin' Barnaby's face, that's all! To me and Ptomaine it was only a question of how much Barnaby could take, for the Kid was playin' with him now like a baby plays with a rattle.

Fin'ly the bewildered Barnaby, urged on by his equally bewildered boy friends, started another rush and managed to land a right swing to the Kid's neck. It was a stiff punch, but Kid Roberts merely grinned, measured his man carefully and coolly, and shot a torrid left and right to the jaw. Barnaby staggered back on his heels fully ten feet before he brought up. "There he goes!" bawls Ptomaine—and there he went! Kid Roberts was on top of him with the speed of a frightened deer. One terrific right to the point of the jaw and Mr. James Barnaby fell flat on his face, a total loss. It was close to five minutes before the young man even opened his one good eye!

Kid Roberts pulls off his gloves, gently picks him up and props him carefully against a tree, tellin' the open-mouthed bunch to hustle some throwin' water from the pond and some drinkin' water from the creek. Eva's beaded bag produced much-needed smellin' salts. White-faced and tremblin', that young lady seemed to be speechless. The Kid workin' over Barnaby, re-