Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 209: what you’re looking at

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

The By this time Burgess was within hearing and almost within reach. “Here! Here!”’ he shouted. “You boys come out of that and quit this scrappin’. This ain’t the place to settle the quarrel. Wait till you git in the ring!” “T only want to get him there!” yelled Kelly. “Yah! Youse’ll have to tie him to git him near me!” retorted Marty. But neither of them made any further re- sistance to being dragged from the crowd and led away to a more private spot. The spectators followed, but a door was closed in their faces. However, wood was not calcu- lated to insulate voices raised as high as those inside the room, and they could, there- fore, hear what was going on. Generally speaking, profanity and recrimination form- ed the major part of the debate, but the lis- teners had no difficulty in gathering that both the fighters were raging like tigers and insisting that no mere fight of a limited number of rounds would satisfy them. Young Kelly, especially, screamed that he would only be satisfied with the full privi- lege of beating McGuire into a shapeless pulp if it took a hundred rounds, while McGuire seemed to be less belligerent, his voice being more subdued and _ sullen, though he, too, insisted that nothing would suit him better than a fight which should settle beyond the chance of dispute the mooted question of superiority. Crabbe seemed to hold out for the original articles—a fight of twenty rounds and a purse of ten thousand dollars to be divided sixty and forty per cent. But the principals paid little attention to him and he yielded gradually, though reluctantly. Then there came up the question of a stakeholder. This was introduced by Crabbe. Burgess suggested that he would have a certified check for the winner, but this was snarled away to the four winds. Kelly de- nounced him viciously for a crook that had robbed him once before, and declared that he would not trust him with a plugged nickel as far as he could see him. McGuire also asked him where he kept his bank references, and intimated, truculently, that his face didn’t look good to him. Crabbe demurred, also. He said that Burgess might be responsible, but that they didn’t know it. Maybe he was as honest as the day was long, but he would have to look for his reward in honesty alone. They Trap 207 couldn’t take a chance, all the more so as the affair promised to be highly illegal, and there would therefore be little chance of en- forcing their claims if Burgess should be crooked. Here a thought occurred to Young Kelly, and he made it known. None of these bankers and such, nor any checks that took time to cash, would do. When he got through with McGuire, he felt sure there would probably be trouble with the authori- ties. He might even be liable to an indict- ment for murder. Personally, he regarded it as likely that he would have to make as quick a getaway as was possible, and he didn’t want to have to stop and fool with any banks while the officers of the law might be looking for him. Marty McGuire agreed with him, but from different premises. He thought that the coroner might be looking for him as a material witness at the inquest over Kelly, or his remains. Arguing from this, the question of how they were to get their mon- ey interested him as it did Kelly. Burgess suggested that they have the money at the ringside and deliver it when the fight was over. But Abe had an ob- jection to this, also. There were bound to be a number of bad men at the fight, probably with guns. What would prevent them, if it was known that such a sum was out there, from holding up the stakeholder and getting away with it? No, they must hit on some other ex- pedient. At this point they came out of the room and, still disputing, but now more amicably, gathered in the lobby before the desk of the clerk. They seemed unable to come to any agreement for some time, and then it was the resourceful Abe Bernstein that solved the problem. His eye lit on the countenance of Mr. Darrow, the day-clerk, which was an exceptionally open and frank one. It seem- ed to please him, and he banged his hand on the desk to call attention to the fact. “There is the very feller!” he exclaimed. ‘After the fight we come back here, don’t we? Before we get the train, hey? That is those that cam come, come! Well, why ain’t it a plan to let this feller hold the stuff? Let him be the stakeholder and hand the bundle over to the feller that wins. Then we won’t have to wait for nothin’, but can stop here to get our bags and catch the train after collecting our money. Let him do it.” CoMmicboooks CO