got to see Kid Roberts on a matter of life and death. I could of choked the bell hop silly which brung up that sensational news because the damosels had been poison to the Kid up to date, and here on the brinks of the biggest fight in his career a Jane has got to butt in!
"Nothin' stirrin'!" I shouted to the boy. "Git outa here and close that door!" Me and a coupla handlers had the Kid flat on the bed, givin' him a final body massage.
"Here—just a minute!" pipes Roberts, sittin' up with a jerk. "Let's see what this is. I do not know why any lady should want to see me now, but if it's as important as that—" He reaches for a bath robe. "Have the lady come up!" he tells the wide-eyed boy.
There is a timid knock at the door in a few minutes, and in comes said lady. She's a thin, little, kinda woreout dame, but very soothin' to the eyes at that. Her first bomb is that she will see Kid Roberts alone or not at all, and she seems terrible worked up. Without a word to us the Kid bows, opens the door to the sittin' room of this suite, ushers her in, and follows, closin' the door before I could make a move.
The conference lasts about ten minutes, durin' which time I died about seven times and cussed myself to death seven more for lettin' the Kid get out of my sight! The mysterious female goes right to the hall door, shakes the Kid's hand, makes him a present of a soulful glance, and blows.
"Well, what the—" I begins.
"That," says the Kid very solemnly, "that—was Tiger Capato's wife! A very sweet, wholesome little
