a tough fight! I throwed up my hands and got the old towel ready to toss in if Kid Roberts got floored more than once, because I think between Jim Oliver, the referee, and that dizzy cable, why, it's all over except the count.
If what I don't know was grapes, I'd have more grapes than Mr. Concord himself! That cable seems to act on the Kid like a cold shower on a heavy sleeper. He met the highly confident Oliver before that baby was half-ways out of his corner. Sidesteppin' a left lead, the Kid swung a right and left to the head that crashed the champ reelin' against the ropes and simply panicked the mob. Oliver was groggy and tried to clinch, but that didn't fit in with the Kid's idea of matters and a short left hook to the heart again staggered the champ, whilst a sizzlin' right to the mouth brought the blood in a stream. In Oliver's corner they are shoutin' enough advice to their man to solve Germany's problem! The punch-drunk champion managed to flounder into a clinch, but that was simply a bad case of out of the fryin' pan into the fire, because once in close Kid Roberts banged away at Oliver's ribs till they're as red as any blaze you ever seen.
Oliver throws the referee a glance which would of melted a iceberg, and that bozo, which had been actin' like he was hypnotized by the terrible execution Kid Roberts was doin', snapped out of it and shoved the men apart. He likewise "warns" Kid Roberts—for what I don't know. The champ slipped to his knees on the break and that was the tip-off on the shape he's in.
