the chin, but the effort used up all he had and he was takin' it plenty when the bell rung. Ford's round.
At the beginnin' of the third frame, Ford cut the Kid's eye with a right and the gore spattered both of 'em when Kid Roberts desperately clinched. The referee cautioned Ford for some unnecessary rough stuff and Ford held out a apparently apologetic glove to shake the Kid's hand. As Roberts reached out his own glove for it, Ford suddenly hooked his left viciously to the Kid's unprotected jaw, sendin' him to his knees.
The mob yelled murder and so did I, but before the hesitatin' referee could act, the Kid's up without waitin' for a count, tearin' into Ford with lunatical fury. Ford kept his head, though, and held the Kid off with jarrin' lefts to his damaged eye. That optic was soon closed tight, givin' a further advantage to Ford which already had all the advantage in the world! Kid Roberts took a steady beatin' for the remainder of the round and Ford went to his corner lookin' amazed that he couldn't finish him. The Kid's gameness has broke more than one fighter's heart! Ford's round.
Kid Roberts was out on his feet when he fell on his stool. Ptomaine asked him if he knew what round it was.
"Sure!" says the Kid. "It's the eleventh!"
The fourth round opened with a long clinch, both landin' punishin' blows in close. When the referee got 'em apart, Ford begin jabbin' the Kid's burn glim where he left off before and he didn't seem able to miss it! Kid Roberts, fightin' on his heart alone,
