rounds!" squawks the sailors, dancin' wildly and wavin' their arms like maniacs. Ptomaine glares down at 'em longin'ly, but I grabbed him and says if he left that stage I'd leave him flat in Frisco for good and all! He believes me and contents himself with exchangin' choice compliments with these monkeys. Meanwhile, the big anchovy the Kid fought has fully recovered and comes over to us, lookin' as fresh and as full of fight as when he climbed into the ring.
"Gimme the dough!" he grunts, shovin' his ugly pan within a touch of my own. "I was on me feet at the end of the fight!"
"I'll give you nothin', you big tramp!" I says, hotly, "You'd of been counted out in another second and"
"That will do, Joe!" butts in Kid Roberts. "Pay him the money—he's earned it and we aren't welshers!" He turns to the big sailor, whilst I'm grumblin'ly countin' out the gelt, "You made a fine showing and had me bothered for awhile, old man," says the Kid, pleasantly, and holds out his hand. "Shake?"
This gentleman of the old school snatches the five hundred from me and brushes the Kid's outstretched hand aside with a oath.
"You bet I made a fine showin'!" he snarls. "I'd of licked you in five more minutes. I could ruin a guy like you every day in the week and twice on Sunday. C'mon down to the foc's le of my ship and finish it, if you ain't too yellah!"
Kid Roberts grins at him good-naturedly and moves
