The Kid meets the rush of the gang like they had practised it together, and he floors one after the other of them with snappy left hooks. Of course he was pullin' his punches and barely touchin' these hicks, but it looked awful good from front. Then Brown-Smith, who had been hangin' around on the outside, rushes in. For a guy who had never tried the thing before, he struck me as bein' real swift at pickin' up the rules, because he faced the cameras at the right angles and pulled a lot of fancy stuff that usually nobody but a sure enough movie actor knows. The Kid sidesteps him and puts a light left to his chin and Brown-Smith comes back with a right swing that would have floored the Kid, if it hadn't been too high. The Kid went back on his heels and a little trickle of claret comes from his lips. Genaro jumps in the air, clappin' his hands. "Magnificenta!" he yells. Miss Vincent is breathin' hard and her hands pressed up tight against her chest. 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!