For a second the customers is dazed, and then with a roar they begin to give him the razz. Some of the witty remarks from the gallery would be barred here, but I had spent a week preparin' the Kid for that and he simply turned over a page, cast a amused smile at one and all, and went on readin'. Over across the ring Owney Griggs and his handlers is on the verge of the hystericals. Kid Roberts, the "Millionaire Society Boxer," certainly did look soft, till the Kid stood up to be introduced to the house and the "valet" whipped off the trick bath robe.
The mob quit kiddin' on the instant, the noisy chatter hangin' fire on a long gasp—then they rocked the buildin' with the hand his clean, magnificent body deserved. The grin slid from the face of Owney Griggs and he sat down, lookin' very serious.
If ever there was a flashy looker, stripped, his name was Kid Roberts—the ripplin' muscles rollin' and twistin' under his white skin like corded steel under satin. A sport writer, sittin' under his corner, threw away a cigarette and immediately christened him "the Adonis of the Ring," and as such he was known to the finish. Alongside of this seven-ton bruiser he was gonna meet, he looked kinda light for a punishin' heavyweight, but the minute the bell rang he looked big enough to take the Rock of Gibraltar—and he was!
With the crowd yellin' and strainin' in their seats, the Kid was half-way across the ring before Griggs left his corner. Workin' fast, Roberts feinted this big ham into a knot, brought his guard down with a jab at the body and then, like a flash of startled light,
