turned to meet him with a twisted grin. The referee hollered and started between 'em, caught the growl of ten thousand animals, shrugged his shoulders, and stepped away. And then they were at it again like wild men!
A fight, what?
The first solid wallop the Kid landed showed Kennedy what a simp he was to think Roberts was the same as out. It broke his nose and made him a study in red from chin to hips. He began back-pedalin' again, but the Kid gave him no chance. He punched him from pillar to post, from one side of the ring to the other. He hit him with every blow known to boxin', and inside of a minute had him flounderin' blindly about the ring, drunk with punishment. A hurricane of left and right hooks almost knocked Kennedy through the ropes, and swish—a sponge came hurtlin' into the ring from his corner. It rolled to the edge of the platform, quivered there a minute, and then the blazin'-eyed referee with a flick of his heel sent it spinnin' down on the reporters.
"Fight, you yellah bum!" he roars in Kennedy's battered ear. "You wanted it; now take it!"
Kennedy, seein' they was no way out of it, staggered forward and swung wildly with both hands. The Kid laughed out loud, measured him with his left, and floored him with a right cross to the button of the jaw. Kennedy, glassy-eyed, rolled over on his back at "six," gazed up at the Kid he had tried to maim for life a few minutes back, and waved a weak hand.
"I—got—enough!" he pants and quit like a dog!
