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 of the ring. I immediately claimed the fight on a foul, and the English promoter, the referee, and Gournet's manager pulled clocks on me and gimme five seconds to get out of the ring. I danced around 'em, pointin' to the Frog's gloves and then to my handlers workin' over the Kid's eyes, but they was nothin' stirrin'. The promoter yells that we won't get a nickel if we don't fight, and he would also see that the authorities found out who started the fracas at the Casino.

At this point "Honest Joe" Hammond sticks his head under the ropes and begs me to go ahead and kill this Frenchman, otherwise him and his pals would be hit for more than seventy thousand bucks. In the midst of the argument the bell rung for the second round, and I hollered to the Kid to stay on his stool, at the same time wavin' my handlers down and steppin' outside the ropes myself so's this referee wouldn't disqualify us for me bein' in the ring. Gournet dances out to the center, smilin' at his friends, and the referee steps over to where Kid Roberts is still sittin' on his stool, half blinded and crazy with pain. He gives my boy one look and then, raisin' his arms, begins countin' him out as he stt there. I plowed my way around the mob to his corner, stood the perfectly legal count till the referee reached "nine," and then shoved the Kid flounderin' into the ring.

Instantly Gournet swung his right to the jaw, and the Kid crashed to the mat, rolled over on his stomach, and was up at eight, weavin' back and forth on his feet, one glove to his eye and gropin' for the Frenchman with the other like the blind man he was. The crowd had gone stark crazy, and I chewed my lips till the hot