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 Roberts was crooked, but she was leavin' nothin' to chance. I merely snapped at her that if the Kid drowned before we got to him, I'd toss her overboard after him as sure as she was a foot high!

Kid Roberts was all in when we reached him, and I pulled him out, assisted by Diana, which was scared stiff till we got him aboard. Then she perked up, told the gaspin' Kid she saved his life and the least he could do in return was to save her brother's money. If I had her nerve, I'd start across the Sara Desert with a line of gondolas and talk all the sheiks into tradin' their camels for 'em!

Soakin' wet, chilled to the bone, and sore at all of us, Kid Roberts simply glared at Diana and refused to answer her one way or the other. In silence we sped to the shore, hopped from the boat and a frightened Diana, and dashed to the railroad station, where the frantic Ptomaine Joe bundled us into our compartment.

The less said about that trip to New York the better!

Kid Roberts was still enraged at one and all when he climbed through the ropes before a howlin' mob of fight-mad fans to tangle with Fred Fleming, and cheers which rocked the clubhouse only wrung a curl of the lip from him. Talk about rarin' to go—the Kid shot from his corner at the first bell like a wounded tiger and chased the amazed and indignant Fleming all over the ring! Fleming thought it was all fixed to go the full distance to a draw, and he just couldn't understand the Kid's bein' so rough and boisterous at the start. He clinched and cautioned Kid Roberts, re-