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 Roberts was much annoyed by the everlastin' presence of Beth around the gym and he simply ruined her when he point-blankly asked her one day to take the air. The Kid gently told the furious Beth that a prize fighter's trainin' quarters was no place for a lady, even if her old man did run the joint. Kid Roberts was triple polite about this delicate matter, selectin' his words like a veteran housewife selects chops, but the look the flamin'-faced Beth give him sent a slight chill up my spine.

"The great big stiff!" says Beth to me, courteously, as the Kid walked away. "He hates himself, don't he? I hope Bob Young beats the life out of him. I think Frankie Nolan could do it right now!"

"You do, hey?" I says, curlin' my lip, "Well, Frankie better not get thinkin' that way or the Kid will sure bruise him!"

"He won't do any such thing!" she says, scornfully waggin' her little head. "Frankie could whip Kid Roberts any time he wanted to—he's been holdin' back in the trainin' bouts here!"

"Did Frankie tell you he wasn't tryin' against the Kid?" I ask her, grinnin'.

"No," she says, after a minute, "but I've seen Frankie fight lots of times and he doesn't fight in the ring the way he does here!"

"I noticed that myself," I says, still grinnin', "There is quite a difference in the way Frankie boxes in the ring and the way he boxes in a gym. In a gym, for the example, he manages to keep off the floor, whilst in the ring"