"Care to box a round or so with me—eh—Roberts?" says Daniels, like he's speakin' to his valet.
Kid Roberts gazes around at him and hesitates, whilst the crowd gets much interested and moves up closer so's not to miss nothin'. In each face there's a "This is goin' to be good!" expression. So I stepped to the fore, motionin' the glarin' Ptomaine to keep quiet.
"To-morrow!" I says to Daniels, before the Kid can answer. "To-morrow, sonny, we'll be tickled to fill your order, but the store's closed up for to-day. Be sure to be on time, because you're one fellow I want to see waited on!"
"Now, Joe—" begins Kid Roberts, frownin' at me.
But Daniels laughs a nasty laugh, lookin' meanin'ly at the mob and then back at the Kid, which air't answered him yet.
"Why the big silence?" he sneers. "I should think you'd welcome a chawnce to improve your speed by boxing one who knows at least the rudiments of the art, instead of this daily hippodrome with clumsy and unskilled sparring partners who are mere human punching bags!"
"Cut yourself a piece of cake!" yells Ptomaine, takin' this as a personal insult. "What d'ye mean I'm clumsy? You better not choose me, brother, or the best you'll get is a lot of grief. C'mon in here—I'll give you all the boxin' you can handle, you big mock orange!"
Some of the gals commences to move away a bit nervously, and there's quite a murmur from the crowd.
