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 all her name suggested. Yes, boys and girls, Nada was a pulse quickener of the first water, and it was comical to watch Knockout Burns, lockjawed for once, gazin' at her with his mouth as open as a Memphis crap game and his eyes a foot from his head. The beauteous damsel favored the battle-scarred: Knockout with a scornful quirk of a too red lip, and trained her heavy guns on Kid Roberts, which never give her a tumble, thereby allowin' Nada to enjoy a sensation she prob'ly hadn't had since she was fourteen years old. You see, the Kid was signed up for all of it with Dolores, which could of spotted Venus five cans of complexion cream and then made the noted model look like a overworked dishwasher! If you owned the Pacific Ocean, would you get a thrill out of gazin' upon a glass of water? Well, that was the Kid's position—get me?

How the so ever, in spite of the fact that Kid Roberts showed no indication of gettin' chills and fever from watchin' Nada, I felt they was a bust comin' before we got through elevatin' the deaf and dumb drama. I knew Nada wouldn't be happy till the handsome world's champion got lured into gettin' personal so's she could bawl him out, and thus get revenge for him askin' her what she thought of Wagner's Rheingold and tzappin' her into answerin' that she had favored Budweiser before Keeley went crazy and cured the entire country. Then again, Knockout Burns was overboard over her and would have to be disposed of, and I had caught Van Dyke frownin' heartily at Nada every time she tried out a grin on the Kid. On the top of all this, they was a