"Devereaux," he says to the stranger, "shake hands with two of the best. Joe Murphy, my manager and guardian; Ptomaine Joe, my trainer. Boys, this is Devereaux Winston-Logan, a former classmate and a disgustingly wealthy friend of mine!"
Logan smiles and gives us each a grip. As usual, Ptomaine has got to speak out of turn.
"Howdy, Mister Logan," says this master mind, with a goofy grin on his homely pan, "how is all your little berries comin' along!"
Kid Roberts and Logan frowns for a instant. Then Logan slaps his hands together and chuckles. "Not bad!" he says to the Kid. "Logan berries, eh? Your man is quite a comedian, isn't he?"
"A second Chaplin," I butt in, sneerin' at Ptomaine. "You ought to see the witty falls this dizzy Boob can do once he puts the gloves on and gets in a ring! Don't mind him, Mister Logan, he don't know what it's all about."
"'At's what you think!" says Ptomaine. "I know what I'm doin' when I take them dives, and if you figure I don't you're crazy! If I stayed up, I'd get clouted, wouldn't I? Believe me, I'm usin' my head all the time—I'm a student, what I mean. I'd just as soon get knocked cold in Round One as I would in Round Twenty; it's less wearin' on a guy's face! C'mon, let's go places. I want to step down to some beach and do a piece of bathin'. Believe me, I swim a nasty ocean!"
"That's the proper place to be on a day like this," agrees Logan and turns to Kid Roberts. "What on
