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 can sock—I'll teach you to know your right glove from the, and if we don't cop the title in a year I'll quit managin' pugs and go to work!"

Kelly comes stumbling over at this minute and growls at Shapiro:

"What did you stop it for? They was nobody hurt! I wasn't out. I was stallin'—you didn't have to save me!"

"You, you big boloney?" sneers Shapiro, draping a bathrobe around me like I'm a cracked race horse. They's two fellows rubbing me with oil. "I wasn't even thinkin' of you! I didn't want this boy to break his hands on you—he ain't got no bandages on. D'ye think he's yellah now?"

Knockout Kelly grins kind of sheepish. Then he reaches down and shakes my glove. "It's all fun, ain't it, kid?" he says through his puffed lips. "I think the two of us could lick any sixty cops in the world, how 'bout it? Cheese, but you got a sweet right!"

"And, cheese, but you got a sweet left!" I says, shaking his glove.