that's a cinch! And as far as the movies is concerned, I've heard of things happenin' in everyday life which would make a movie thriller look like Sunday on the farm!"
"For instance?" asks the Kid.
"Them trips which Sinbad the Sailor took," I says, "or that little voyage of Robinson Crusoe, or"
"Why, you idiot," butts in the Kid, "those things never actually happened! They are merely imaginative"
"Listen," I says. "Don't try to kid me. I got the best proof in the world that them things happened!"
"Well, that's certainly interesting indeed!" says the Kid, tryin' to be sarcastical. "What proof have you?"
"I can show you the books!" I says. "Good enough?"
"Ample!" says Kid Roberts, laughin'. "And just as convincing as your belief that Miss Mack has designs on my health, which, of course, is all bosh!"
With that he begins to punch the bag and leaves me to my own resources.
Speakin' of bosh, I'll show you how much bosh my hunch was. Beth Mack done just two little things to Kid Roberts. Each of 'em nearly cost him the title. Allow me to present number one.
Frankie Nolan, Beth's heavy boy friend, was simply a good, tough heavy of no particular class, but a pip of a sparrin' partner mainly through his ability to take it. Frankie was no master boxer, but he'd proved a stumbfin' block for many a ambitious corner who'd punch his own heart out tryin' to stop Frankie only to quit tryin' the impossible and take one on the chin.
