st. Her
face was the color of skimmed milk. Genaro pipes her and grabs a
camera man. "Shoota that--queek!" he hollers, pointin' to her. The
new dame runs over to me and grabs my arm.

"Stop it!" she whispers, excited like. "You must! Albert will kill
him! He was amateur heavyweight champion once and--oh!--he wants to
beat Mr. Scanlan--he--oh!--"

I heard Miss Vincent give a little yelp, and I shove this dame away
and, believe me, bo, _I_ come near goin' dead on my feet! _Because
there's my champ on the ground, layin' flat on his face and he looked
as cold as the North Pole_! I started to dash in, but Genaro grabs me
and throws me aside. "Stoppa, fool!" he yells. "Thisa picture she'sa
maka me famous!"

The rest of the mob is too scared to do anything--they knowed that this
was the real thing! The Kid gets up on one knee, and, on the level,
the only sound you could hear was his choked breathin' and the steady
click of the cameras--yes, and I guess the beatin' of my heart! The
Kid is shakin' his head to clear it from that wallop and I yelled to
him to stay down and take his time. He gets half way up and slides
down again flat and Brown-Smith laughs. Then Miss Vincent suddenly
turns, and there's a bucket of ice cold lemonade standin' on a bench
beside her. It had been put there for the extry people. This here
eighteen-carat, regular fellow dame grabs that bucket and throws the
lemonade all over the Kid's head and shoulders!

It braced him like a charge of hop--his head jerked up as it hit him
and he shook off the drops--and in another second he was on his feet,
smilin' the old Scanlan smile and dancin' around this guy who was
rushin' in to finish him. He swings for the Kid's jaw and the Kid,
movin' his head an inch out of the way, puts a hard right and left to
the mouth. Brown-Smith coughed out a tooth that he had no further use
for, and starts backin' away, coverin' up like a crab. The Kid laughs
over at me and sends this guy's head back like it was on a hinge, with
two uppercuts and a right jab. He tries to rush in and grab the Kid,
and Scanlan closes his left eye with the prettiest straight left I ever
seen. He wasn't tryin' to knock this big stiff out, he was
deliberately cuttin' him to pieces in a most cold, workmanlike manner.

Miss Vincent is smilin' now and the other dame--is not! Potts's mouth
is open about five yards and he looks like he don't know whether to
call the police or go back