thirds of Washington out to the big auditorium where the Red Cross benefit was bein' had. By the time we had shouldered our way through the mob down into the basement where the men's dressin' room was, congressmen was out in the street fightin' with less known millionaires for the privilege of payin' two hundred bucks to stand up inside. We could plainly hear Kenney's voice in the room opposite the one we took whilst I was bandagin' the Kid's hands. I hadn't bothered to lock the door, and suddenly it opens and closes gently and when I glance quickly around at the Kid's startled exclamation, I see no less than Mrs. Kenney is inside. She's tremblin' like a shaken jelly and on the brinks of weeps. Her cute little face is the color of cream, but her eyes is feverish.
The Kid jumps up frownin'ly and throws a bathrobe around his shoulders.
"Forgive me—I—I—had to come!" pants Mrs. Kenney in a chokin' whisper. "I—Joe has sold the ranch and bet every penny we have tn the world that he will knock you out to-night!"
"Oh, the infernal ass!" gasps the Kid. "Good Heavens, what a mess! You poor girl!"
"Who did he bet with—quick!" I says. "Maybe I can—"
"It's too late!" moans Mrs. Kenney, collapsin' into a chair and hidin' her face in her hands. "I saw the man—Big Bill Henderson, they call him—who's holding the stakes. I told him everything, but it was no use. He said he would not give Joe back the money unless there wasn't any bout. There must not be a bout, do you hear?"
