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 instructed to work on the body. They exchanged light jabs in Pierce's corner, and, in dancin' away, Pierce slipped to the floor. Kid Roberts instantly stooped and helped him up, gettin' a big hand from the crowd and a shake from Pierce, who then suddenly ripped another right to the heart. The Kid's face paled and down come his guard. Wam! Like a flash Pierce had hooked his left to the jaw, and the champ sprawled on his back whilst the house was in a wild uproar.

Roberts was up at "seven," groggy but full of fight. He tried to rush Pierce, but this guy stepped coolly aside and floored the Kid again with a right chop to the side of the head. The Kid got to his hands and knees, pulled himself erect by the ropes, and, only waitin' till he straightened up with his arms danglin' helplessly, Pierce shot over two more hard rights, crashin' him again to the mat.

By this time the mob was tearin' up the seats, and I had bit entirely through my lower lip. The champion just beat the count by a eyelash, got up reelin', but had generalship enough left to fold his arms over his head and dive into a clinch. Pierce, strong as a young bull, shook him off, however, and was measurin' him for the finisher when the bell rang. Knockout Pierce run to his corner, wavin' his gloves at the crazy mob. The Kid sagged over against the ropes and would of fell through 'em if I hadn't grabbed him. His eyes was starin' vacantly at nothin'.

Well, a round-by-round account of this battle would not be pretty, and it brings back no fond memories to me, except to remind me of a exhibition of courage which has been seldom equaled and never surpassed in