turned pale and shivered, I was double positive that this fracas was goin' to be more secret than Mr. Secret himself!
The first one to arrive on the battle ground was Toledo Eddie Hicks, Bob Young's manager, and he was fit to be tied! The champ's pilot carried on like a maniac, swearin' me and Kid Roberts had framed his visible means of support, and yellin' that he wouldn't let Young go on with the fight if he had to call out the United States army to get him away from the hacienda. Neither Pancho or us even answered him, and fin'ly Bob Young, which since he won the title had been filled with the idea that a manager was a waste of good money, told Toledo Eddie to shut up and go roll his hoop if he didn't like the way things was goin'. Young thought Kid Roberts a set-up and sneerin'ly offered to bet half his end of Pancho's purse that the Kid wouldn't last six rounds. The offer was refused with thanks. Bob Young was a tough boy—he was also champion, and we was takin' no reckless chances with that hundred thousand. It meant too much, get me? Kid Roberts was goin' in there to do his best. He hoped to win. He figured he prob'ly would win, but if he did get knocked off, why, he wasn't goin' to go back home broke. Smart boy, eh? I thought so too till—but wait!
It was exactly 9.20 that night when Kid Roberts and Bob Young climbed through the ropes in the ghostly glare of a score of lanterns Pancho had stretched over the ring. Pancho sat with Maida and his six enemies at the ringside. The ex-bandit was as excited as a Kid
