Bess. I could see it in his eyes when he looked at yuh! Guess I better get yuh home to the ranch, or I'll be losin' yuh, eh? All the punchin' I'm goin' to do hereafter, Bess, will be in connection with cows!"
Thus passed Joseph Kenney, the Chickasha Bone Crusher. . . .
Some time very late that night Kid Roberts is tellin' Miss Dolores Brewster, in a reception room off the ballroom at the Red Cross dance, that he got the bumps on his face in a auto accident and that he don't feel up to foxtrottin', but will call for her after the ball.
"Please let me explain, dear, why I didn't appear at the benefit," he's sayin'. "The most sensational thing—"
"I know all about it!" Dolores butts in, smilin'. "Mrs. Kenney—that cowboy's wife, you know—found out I was connected with the affair and came to me this afternoon. Imagine the poor little thing coming all the way from Oklahoma! She wanted to prevent the bout—told me a most pathetic story. I'll tell you about that later, but I gave her my word I would try and stop you and her husband from entering the ring to-night. I phoned all over town and couldn't find you and I felt horrid. I wish you could have seen her, Kane, she was so tragic! Well, I finally hit upon the scheme of sending a wire to your dressing room warning you not to enter the ring to-night, as the police were going to stop the exhibition on the ground that it was a prize fight. Wasn't I clever? That's what prevented the bout, wasn't it?"
"Yes!" I almost hollered, kickin' the Kid right in the ankle.
