But Kid Roberts has dashed out the door!
When I got to our hotel with Ptomaine later, I found a note from the Kid in my box to the effects that if I expected to see him before the next mornin' I was crazy. How the so ever, if anything come up that I had to get hold of him I could reach him at Rhinelander 87449. In the telephone novel, that number's listed as the home of my athalete's wife!
Well, the next day Kid Roberts showed up at our inn about noon. He's gaily whistlin' a tune and looks ten years younger than he did the night before in the ting, what I mean. Honest, he capers about the room like a schoolboy, without no explanation of what's detained him, why, and what the Indianapolis is the matter with him. How the so ever, at last my peevish questions gets startlin' results. The Kid stops his whistlin' selection long enough to inform me that Dolores really was among those present at the "battle" the night before. Without givin' me time to recover from that bit of unlooked for news, he adds happily that him and Dolores has kissed and made up and she's goin' to leave the state senate flat on its vertebræ!
"You see, Joe," says Kid Roberts, "Dolores had to attend the fight last night in her official capacity as a senator, through her being on a committee investigating the alleged brutality of boxing contests in New York."
"I get you," I says. "Well, the only thing brutal about that bout was the prices they charged the fans for viewin' it!"
