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 the back of his glove. The place was a bedlam as the bell ended the third! round with the sailor still on his feet. Kid Roberts, bleedin' slightly from a cut on the head where this baboon had butted him, was glad to hear the gong. The champion made just one comment as we worriedly sponged him off: "This fellow's a tough man. He hits hard. I'll be sorry to stop him, but—here he goes!"

Up to date, Kid Roberts had devoted the bulk of his time to avoidin' the sailor's murderous rushes, blockin' his terrible wallops and occasionally counterin' with light lefts and rights. The champ, of course, had forgot more about boxin' than this ham would ever know and could of made a gory wreck of him, but Kid Roberts never punished a man unnecessarily. How the so ever, with the bell for the fourth and last frame, the Kid went out to finish this foul-fightin' ape and punched him all over the ring. Two right uppercuts in succession drove the sailor against the ropes and a third sent him to his knees a total loss. He got up without waitin' for the count and floundered drunkenly around, whilst his pals howled for him to tie in and our admirers screamed for the Kid to bounce him. Kid Roberts measured his man carefully, then shot over a perfectly-timed left and a terrible right to the jaw. Down goes Mons. Seaman like a broken ceilin'. He was staggerin' dazedly to his feet at "nine", when the bell rings, savin' him from a knockout, to the insane delight of his shipmates!

"Give 'im the five hundred—he stayed the four