second and then both arms begin pumpin' like pistons into the Hurricane's body, left—right, left—right, left—right, left—right! A minute of this and Kenney's grunts with each blow could be plainly heard by guys in the last row. The arm comes away from the Kid's neck, and I see the back muscles quiverin' under the rollin' skin.
Quick as startled lightnin' the Kid shifts his attack, and a vicious right uppercut sent the Bone Crusher back on his heels, pawin' at the breeze for support. Roberts, however, refused to follow up his advantage and put him away, but contented himself with lefthandin' his man all over the ring—never lettin' the bewildered Kenney set for a solid punch.
The bell only seemed to irritate the Hurricane further, and he took two free swings at the Kid after the latter dropped his hands and started for his corner, for which the mob gave him the razz.
When the indignant referee explained to him that the gong meant cease firin', Kenney grinned sheepishly, walked over to the Kid and shook his hand, mumblin' somethin' about not knowin' the rules.
The Kid presents him with a pleasant smile and a pat on the back, and as Joseph returns to his corner the crowd give him a hand which would of tickled Chaplin.
Durin' the rest I told the Kid that as this Kenney person was about the foulest fighter I ever seen work, he had better crack him and be done with it.
Roberts shakes his head and says he'll merely keep him off and let it go at that.
"This fellow isn't deliberately foul," says the Kid.
