thing but the purse he was gettin' for Young, $250,000—win, lose, draw or what have you? He made me re-tape the Kid's hands, lower his belt and about everything else he could think of to try and upset the Kid's nerves with the fussin' and waitin'. The officials come to my assistance and chased the grinnin' Eddie to the other corner about the time that the crowd, crazy with impatience, was all ready to rush the ring and lynch Edward. The men posed for the newspaper photographers, then got the referee's brief orders about breakin' from clinches, forbidden blows and the usual stuff which nobody pays the faintest attention to. The ring is cleared of everybody but Roberts and Young—the mob howls madly—the bell!
Followin' my instructions to the letter, Kid Roberts shot across the ring and clipped Young twice with a terrific left hook to the body before the champ was well out of his corner. The second punch landed flush on the heart and had enough behind it to make the champ buckle at the knees and dive into a clinch. Nobody outside the ropes in that howlin' bedlam was sittin' down now! Comin' out of the clinch, Young steadied and began pickin' at the Kid's plastered eye with a long left. His aim was good so he soon knocked the plaster off and I laughed myself silly at the puzzled look on the champ's face when the eye didn't bleed. My trick to protect the Kid's other glim, cut by Frankie Nolan, was workin' perfect! Kid Roberts was tryin' for a one-round knockout and kept carryin' the battle to Young. He rushed the champ repeatedly, landin' often with that wicked left hook to the body and fol-
