Adventure Magazine Cover — page 136: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

130 and fought like a fiend to break his hold, but he held on grimly, fighting for time to clear his head and get the air back into his lungs. The gong mercifully saved him and he fairly tottered to his corner and fell upon the stool. A whiff of ammonia and a spill of cold water on his head and face revived him a little, but he was dazed and weak and: trembling like a leaf. His handlers chafed at him madly. “Tt’s all right, old man,’ Ward cheered him. “Just a little bad luck, that’s all. You'll come back all right next round.” But Ward knew that he was merely trying to kid both McCrady and himself. There was little hope that McCrady would come back the next round; he was respond- ing too slowly to the treatment of his handlers. He had stopped one of Tommy Lynn’s left jabs, and Ward knew from personal experience what that meant. Lynn’s left jab was about the wickedest thing in that line he knew of. He sent a glance toward Lynn’s corner and saw Lynn and Trimble smiling confi- dently. They knew that it was all over but the shouting. Even if Lynn didn’t knock McCrady out next round it was inevitable that he would get the decision on points. Slater would see to that, be- cause Slater was there for that very purpose. It was almost certain, however, that McCrady would be knocked out. Only a most amazing miracle could prevent it. McCrady was-already whipped. psy SUDDENLY Ward’s face set'grimly. ;@g@ There was one chance left. There =m was one faint hope of bringing about that miracle. It was cruel, a terribly cruel thing to do, but the situation was desperate. He saw the time-keeper’s hand reach out for the bell rope. He leaned and put his lips to McCrady’s ear. “Kid, see that man over there in that corner?” he whispered. “Have you forgot- ten what he said about somebody you think a great deal of? Ain’t you going to collect what he owes you? Go get him, Kid.” He felt McCrady’s body stiffen under hishand. The gong sounded and Lynn was in the ring at a bound. And so was Kid McCrady. He went after Lynn furiously, an avalanche of fury, fairly overwhelming him with the very ferocity of his attack. Adventure A vast astonishment overspread Lynn’s face, and Ike Trimble, who stood down ata corner of the platform waiting for his man to finish McCrady, stared open-mouthed. Perhaps never in prize ring history had an audience seen a more miraculous recupera- tion of a fighter all but down and out and licked. Those few whispered words had ac- complished more than even the most power- . ful stimulants could have accomplished. Like flashes of lightning McCrady’s rights and lefts shot out, his blows falling like hail against Lynn’s body, beating a veritable tattoo. He pounded Lynn un- mercifully and gave him no chance to recover. He felt within him vast, inex- haustible reserves of strength and _ will power; he felt that he could go on forever pounding this man whom he hated with a bitter and insatiable hate. His face was screwed into a savage, ferocious mask; it was the face of a raging gorilla. “Remember, over the heart is his weak spot,” Ward had said. Kid McCrady remembered. And prin- cipally toward his opponent’s heart he directed his attack. Lynn covered up as well as he could and tried to escape from the sstorm of blows that beat against his body long enough to regain his poise. But it was far from the intention of Kid McCrady to let him escape. He followed Lynn about the ring like an avenging angel and bat- tered and hammered away. At length he drove Lynn into a corner against the ropes where escape was next to impossible, then while Ike Trimble shrieked curses at him he proceeded to cut Tommy Lynn to pieces. It was terrific. As a man the big audience came to its feet and gasped. “Stop the murder!” ‘Kill him, Kid!” were the mingled shrieks that were hurled at the ring. It was bedlam, chaos, brute man without the restraining veneer of civilization. McCrady caught a momentary glimpse of a policeman shouldering his way down the aisle through the frenzied mass toward the platform. Was he to be cheated of the last and sweetest morsel of his revenge? Had he let his wife go now to be balked in the act of taking recompensation for that sacrifice? He swore that he would have the uttermost mite of his revenge. He suddenly stepped back from Lynn. Lynn seized the opportunity to stagger out COMMICLOOOKS (E@