off his excited questions by swiftly tellin' him what had happened, gettin' some satisfaction from the roar of rage he let loose.
I reminded Ptomaine I had started him twice in a praiseworthy effort to make him a box fighter, and though he had been a fearful bust each time, he'd been well paid for his efforts. Now I wanted him to fight for nothin'. Fight at his own game—rough and tumble, longshoreman, back-room stuff, where everything goes and the man which happens to slip loses! At that kind of thing, without seconds, gloves, bell, or rules, Ptomaine Joe had no equal, and he licked his lips eagerly when I told him I expected him to take this Daniels or else go back to the lumber camp where I found him!
We're just startin' out when Kid Roberts comes along with his pal, Logan. They're bound for the casino, where everybody goes at night on this excitin' island. I tried to draw back in the shadows where he wouldn't see my dilapidated features, but he did.
"Good heavens, Joe!" he gasps. "Who—what happened to you?"
"I—eh—I fell off a cliff in the dark!" I mumbled, pinchin' Ptomaine's arm for silence.
I didn't want Kid Roberts to know Daniels had manhandled me, for a great many good reasons. I knew the hot-tempered Kid, which loved me like a brother, would of dashed right off and broke Daniels in half, and I didn't want that bird killed. I just wanted him half killed, which I figured Ptomaine, fightin' his own way, would do to the queen's taste. Then again, sore
