Whereat came briskly into view Signor Antonio Valentino. He was grinning cheerfully and bowing right and left. There was a suppressed murmur of admiration. Whatever his omissions as a sculptor of Carrara marble, the Kid had neglected nothing that would make his own body a living statue of grace and brawn. Save for the twisted nose and the tin ear, he was an undeniably fine specimen. His attire matched that of the Bearcat.
"Now, when I say 'Break,'" remarked the master of ceremonies, addressing himself to the Kid and the Bearcat, "I want you to break. Understand! Hittin' with one arm free goes, but no rough stuff in the clinches. And when you break, break clean and step back. No hittin' in the breakaways. All set?"
The two young gentlemen in breech clouts nodded nonchalantly.
"Go to your corners."
The Kid and the Bearcat stepped out of sight, and likewise the beefy man.
"It's—it's awful!" stammered Mary Wayne to her companion on the staircase. "Make them stop it!"
Pete viewed her with a look of amazement.
"Stop it?" he echoed, incredulously. "What for? Why, this is a bout they've been trying to pull off for the last two months. Stop it? Why, we're lucky to be in on it!"
There was nothing but horror in Mary's eyes.