curled protectin'ly around his jaw. It would of been a easy matter for the Kid to step aside and measure him, but he lost his head and wasted a dozen haymakers on Enright's neck and shoulders.
The crowd was now all composed of lunatics, and I died a million deaths as the seconds slipped by with Enright still on his feet and the entire bank roll dependin' on a knockout in this round.
Enright, seemin'ly gettin' stronger on punishment, followed the advice from his corner and stepped into the Kid, workin' both hands fast. Again the Kid dropped him, with a glancin' right this time, and again Enright bounced up, after a count of four. Tough? They didn't make 'em any tougher than this baby! Both landed hard rights to the head and then the Kid was short with a left to the jaw. Enright put a wicked right to the body and brought a fresh roar from the crowd when he doubled the Kid up with a left smash to the same place. I had a watch in my hand and I yelled to the Kid that they's less than a minute to go and to knock Enright dead or we're broke. He shook himself desperately and slammed Enright all over the ring, but this guy curls up, bends almost to the floor, leaves nothin' uncovered and takes it. His idea now was to weather the storm and stick out the round—nothin' more. Crazy with the thoughts of what he was losin', the Kid deliberately stepped away, droppin' his hands to lead Enright on. Enright's head peeped over his bent arm and like a flash the Kid shot a terrific right to the jaw, droppin' him like a poled ox. And the very instant that big tramp hit the floor for a sure knockout, the bell rung, endin' the sixth round
