face with his long, snappy left and crossin' his right to the head. Enright had enough of this inside a minute, and was hangin' on at the bell, lookin' wildly to his corner for advice. Nevertheless, the crowd cheered him to the echo when he floundered to his corner and booed the Kid as heartily when he sunk down wearily on his stool.
Four rounds and Enright still on his feet and a hundred and fifty thousand berries gone if he stays two more!
Round Five was tame compared to the others. Actin' on my advice, Kid Roberts saved his strength for the final effort in the sixth round and made no attempt to carry the battle to Enright. Payin' no attention to the frantic howls of the mob to open up and take a chance, the champ danced lightly around the clumsy Enright, pepperin' him with left jabs and occasionally sinkin' a torrid right to the wind, clinchin' when the goin' got rough. They was wrapped in a fond embrace on the ropes at the bell.
The sixth round was one that will be recalled by anybody which was there when they have forgot their first names! The sound of the gong hadn't quite died out when the Kid was on Enright like a famished tiger. He ripped a left and right to the face, drawin' the blood in a stream and, as Enright vainly tried to dive into a clinch, the champ switched his attack to the body and soon had Enright's side a large blotch of crimson. Enright begin swingin' wildly, when a left hook caught him square on the button and he fell in a heap. He was so badly dazed he never waited for no count but come springin' up mechanically, both arms
