through with this proposition, and then the chances is that this false alarm of his will come in hog fat and out of condition—make me? He'll think the thing is framed and get careless and—"
The Kid shook his head.
"No—we can't do that either!" he says, shuttin' me off. "That's all wrong too. It would mean a step down to Carney's level—a first step that might lead us through the whole vile labyrinth before we could stop. No, this bout will be absolutely square, regardless of the outcome. You had better warn Carney to have his man fit, because, win or lose, Capato will know he has been in a fight, I promise you!"
"But look here, Kid," I says impatiently, "that honest-as-the-day-is-long stuff is O. K. in copy books and the like, but this here's a game where a guy has got to use his head as well as his hands! There's angles to it that you'll prob'ly never get, and, with what we got at stake, we'd be a coupla fine bimbos if we didn't grab every advantage. Another thing, don't you suppose that Dummy Carney is figurin' on crossin' us? D'ye think I fell for that draw thing? That crook's got a coupla aces he ain't played yet, and we got a right to protect ourselves, ain't we?"
The Kid grins and holds up his hands.
"Here's plenty of protection!" he says. "Now let's go to a show and forget about Dummy and his fellow banditti. We'll enter no agreements with him or anyone else. My self-respect is about all I've managed to hold on to, and I wouldn't sacrifice that for the championship itself!"
Can you beat them college guys? Now you can get
