Unmindful of the thunderous applause, Kid Roberts collapsed in his corner from the agony of that busted hand, whisperin' to me that his career in the ring was about ended, in spite of the fact that he was still champion. There was plenty young huskies comin' up, whilst the years was beginnin' to punish the Kid severely. The Guardsman had hit him hard and often, even floored him, before goin' out cold. His hands was commencin' to get brittle, his timin' and judgment was poor—old Mother Nature was startin' the count over him, what I mean!
Well, whilst we're all rejoicin' in the dressin' room over the result of the battle and the Kid's hand is bein' set by a openly admirin' sawbones, the sensational news comes that Dolores has been elected to the state senate! It seems that a landslide of votes at the last minute from the rough and tough neighborhoods had swung the tide in her favor. There's no question but that these citizens was for Dolores simply because she was the wife of their idol—Kid Roberts. The voters which put her over was mostly fighters, seconds, promoters, managers, boxin' fans and the etc. So the very thing which made Dolores leave the Kid and which she feared would defeat her ambitions, was responsible for her victory at the end!
But I guess in the first flush of winnin', Dolores didn't realize all that. Back in our hotel that night, with the mountainous Ptomaine outside the door to keep away the mobs which wanted to see the champion, I'm lookin' over a pile of newspaper extras filled with accounts of the big fight and likewise the election
