Adventure, June 1911 — page 90: what you’re looking at

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

276 I s’pose the Club had to give some kind of a shqw-and that amateur was the only thing could get to go agin me. Tighten up that glove!”’ “Maybe you’d better let the bout go a few rounds, Jack,” whispered the second, ‘*So’s to give the crowd 2 little bit of a run er it’s money.” y Few rounds nothin’!”’ sneered the vet- era pug. “Do you think it ‘ld do my féputation any good to have that brat Woastin’ that he went any distance with me? “Not yet! When the gong strikes I s’pose hé’ll just stand in his corner an’ shiver. - walk over an’ clout him a couple o’ stiff es and—we’ll catch that midnight train r Chicago!” The principals and their seconds were motioned to the center of the ring, where the | former shook hands and listened to the réferee’s interpretation of the rules. As the two boxers stood there the backers of the Australian could already hear their win- nings jingling in their pockets. Their man towered fully two inches above the substi- tute fighter, and his great muscular shoul- ders loomed formidably in comparison with those of the younger man. What most of the enthusiasts in the audience failed to note was that Patsy stood “hunched over” so that he appeared a couple of inches shorter than he really was, and that the shuffling awkwardness of his movements as he trav- eled to and from the center of the ring was a decidedly clever bit of acting. The ap- pealing look which the young fellow bent upon the professional was interpreted by that amused gladiator as a bid for mercy. So he was confirmed in his original deter- mination to make short work of it: The gong struck and big Jack Farnum started. across the ring on his mission of mercy. He had negotiated the first half of his second stride when something hit him. It came from the opposite corner and bore all the outward semblance of a human thunderbolt. The audience saw it streak like a comet across the intervening space, collide with the giant and send him stagger- ing to his corner. Then, as the rope, tightened by his weight, hurled him back, he was met by a blinding hail of fists which pelted his rocking head and face unmerci- fully. Giving him no time to recover, the furious Patsy drove him with slashing uppercuts and body-smashes along the side rope to the corner-post, where he brought Adventure up, bloody and blinded by the battery of* blows, limp and helpless. The crowd went wild. The referee pushed, Patsy toward the center of the ring and stood over the gasping gladiator, counting —one—two—three—four—— “Get up!” yelled the Australian’s second. Five—six—seven—eight—— “Get up!” Farnum let go the ropes and reeled like a drunken manintothering. His hands hung at his sides. He leered about him, foolishly. . “Finish him, McGlynn!” ordered the referee. “Hit a man like that? Why, sir, I couldn’t—— | “Finish him, I tell you! The rules de- mand it.” | 1? ‘‘Rules, or no rules, I can’t, and I won’t! “Put up your hands, Farnum. Put up your hands and fight!”’ commanded: the official. The veteran, slightly recovered, very slowly raised his fists and threw himself into a fighting attitude. Patsy measured the distance accurately, estimated the necessary force, and then—a feint, a short-arm jolt, and the pride of Kangaroo-l and Popped over and took the count. In handing Farnum the.loser’s end of the gate-receipts, the head of the Califrisco Club felt called upon to make a few remarks. “It’s the first dollar I have ever parted . with grudgingly,” he said. ‘I learned all about that scheme you and Doolan faked up to rob the Club and the public. I want to say to you and, through you to your partner Mike Doolan, that my regret at having to give you this money is more than counter- balanced by the delight it has given me to see an unknown boy lick the stuffing out of both of you! Good-by, Mister Farnum!” “NOW, Sis, while Pm getting my factory ready for business and fix- ing up our new home, I want you and mother to go over and give the swells and belles of Europe a treat. And when you get her off in some dark corner, away from all lines of communication, I want you to stand up, like a thoroughbred, and confess how you advised me to become a prize-fighter!”’ “Oh, Patsy, I can never do that!”’ “You can do anything you think you can!” he said. comicbooks.con