to find out what it's all about, I've met a couple or three milk-fed cuteys which stood out from the mob like a giraffe would stand out in a convention of worms. One of this type was Diana Pearson. I'll tell you about her and Kid Roberts.
After Kid Roberts made Knockout Ford kiss the canvas I practically instantly matched him with Fred Fleming, the other obstacle in the way of a fight with Bob Young, the champion, for fifteen rounds or less at the port of New York. So we shoved off for the little fishin' village in the land of Maine which I'd picked out for the Kid to train in for Fleming. Frederick was as tough as a life sentence, was nobody's fool as a boxer and a murderous hitter with either hand. I'd saw this baby go and I knew he was good!
As we started for dear old Maine our party was made up of myself, Kid Roberts, and Ptomaine Joe. I'd ordered Jimmy de Long, Midnight Johnson, One-Round Evans, and Joe Reed to report direct to the camp. Jimmy de Long was the greatest conditioner of box fighters which ever held smellin' salts under a broken nose, Midnight Johnson knew no equal as a robber, whilst Messrs. Evans and Reed was a couple of professional choppin' blocks which lived on cruel and unusual punishment. They'd do to limber Kid Roberts up till two or three weeks before he met Fleming. Then I'd have the best heavies which money could buy to extend the Kid to his limit. It's a hobby of mine never to do nothin' by halves, and when I say nothin' I mean nothin'!
A couple of friendly papers and the neutral news
