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 dive off Brooklyn Bridge to prove he's able to step into a bathtub full of water!"

"If Kid Roberts thinks he can take the champ, why should a couple of pushovers like Ford and Fleming disturb him?" asks Eddie coolly.

"Pushovers, hey?" I howled. "Ford has win his last fifteen fights by knockouts and Fleming ain't never been slapped off his feet. Why, you mock orange, I think either of 'em could make that big tramp of yours love it and you think so, too!"

"Be yourself!" says Eddie scornfully. "Here's the layout—take it or leave it. Kid Roberts has went back so far that nobody gives him a chance with Bob Young. Put 'em in a ring to-morrow and the only attendance would be the handlers and the referee! The Kid's got to be built up with the fans. On the other hand, both Ford and Fleming has a big followin'. Lots of maniacs like you think either of 'em would extend Young and that both is entitled to a crack at the champ on their records, All right! Let Roberts go out and knock 'em kickin' and the public will think he's good, won't they? Sure, they will! Then we'll throw Young and Roberts in the ring and nine million nuts will claw each other to get through the gate! If Kid Roberts really feels that Young's got the skin he'd love to touch, that's the way it'll happen or we don't box you. Well, c'mon, what are you thinkin' about?"

"Honest to Boston, I could get deported for what I'm thinkin' about you, you scissor bill!" I says, glarin' at him.