four hectic frames, and, Miller, which had been picked as the next logical opponent for Kid Roberts, was nobody's fool!
In both these pettin' parties, the Guardsman showed enough stuff to make the experts sit erect and pay flatterin' attention. Two of the said experts was me and Kid Roberts, which viewed the Briton's melee with Battlin' Miller. In that brawl, Guardsman Blue showed everything! He was a sweet puncher, a pretty boxer and as tough as a epidemic of smallpox. The clout which put a end to Battlin' Miller's championship hopes was a murderous right uppercut to the chin which crashed through the unfortunate Battler's guard and etherized him for a good ten minutes! Both me and the Kid was very thankful when we filed out of the abattoir that excitin' night. We knew positively that we had the scrap of our lives starin' us in the pan and that Kid Roberts would have to be right when he climbed through the ropes to defend his title against Guardsman Blue! The Kid begin trainin' like he never had before in his career, we accumulated the best sparrin' partners, handlers, trainers and advisers which money could buy and with many of the boxin' sharps givin' Blue better than a even chance with the champion, public interest in the comin' International glove contest was at the well known fever heat.
A couple of weeks after Kid Roberts started in on the old conditionin' grind, I got a rather peculiar message at the camp which was pitched only a stone's throw—for David—from New York City. The
