Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 154: what you’re looking at

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

624 Over and pronounced him the goods. looked so good to my friend Red Reilly _ Now Dolan was the leadin’ contender _ for the lightweight title and a wm over him Meant a fight with the champ. Also, it meant a whale of a house and about fifteen grand for yours truly and his cute little ‘battler—the first big league coin I had been on speakin’ terms with for a long time. - The Kid was tickled to get the chance and settled down toe do some real trainin’. All of the wise ones gave him the once He that Red bet three thou that the Kid would kayo Dolan. Red and I were old pals. I had told him how I dug up the Kid and was glad to see him go back of the boy ‘with his dough. About a week before the day of the fight I was called out of town for a few days. ~-When I got back it was late at night and I hustled right over to the little ‘hotel on Seventh Avenue where me and the Kid had been stayin.’ But when I goes up to get my key the clerk hands me a piece of news that knocks me cold. ‘““Mr. Kennedy,” he says, “ has checked out.” “Checked out!” I gasps. “Ves, sir, shortly after you left.” “You mean he’s left town?” “ No, not left town—just changed hotels. “He’s moved over to the Ritz.” ft looked at the feller to see if he was kiddin’ or lit or somethin’, but he was as sober as a bootlegger. Kid Kennedy at the Ritz—without any dough—without anything. I couldn’t figure it out at all, but I beats it over to this joint as quick as I can. I busts into the lobby and just as I does so the Kid blows in—all dolled up in a soup and fish and everything. The guy who said “ fine feathers make fine birds,” musta had the Kid in mind. T never saw such a change in a bozo in all my life. He looked like a million dollars in that swell fittin’ soup and fish and from the way he acted you’d have thought he’d been ‘wearin’ scenery like that all his life. I was so cuckoo I couldn’t say nothin’ but just stood there gettin’ an eyeful. But -the Kid was right at ease. “ Come on up to my suite,” he said. “Your which?” I gurgled. ARGOSY- ALLSTORY WEEKLY. The Kid didn’t answer. He just Jed the way to the elevator and the next thing I knew I was in some rooms that must have been fixed up special for this here Prince — = ef Wales. pout 1 ever saw. “ Not bad, eh?” says the Kid, grinnin’. By this time I was beginnin’ to get back to earth and I was workin’ up a good head of steam. I didn’t know how the Kid had managed to crash into the Ritz and the glad rags, but what made me sore was for him to break trainin’ this way, and with the big fight with Dolan just a coupla days off. ““ What’s the idea?” I yelled. “‘ I don’t know who you croaked to get the dough for this party, but I do know you got no business stayin’ around, with the big fight only. two days off. +2 ‘* Fight! “What. fight!” I hollers. mill with Dolan, of course.” The Kid takes off his spike-tailed coat and hangs it in a closet where there was about a dozen suits parked already. “Oh, that,” he says. “Yes, that,” I tells him. What fight?” asks the Kid. = Why; the And you’re gonna get out of this joint pronto and I’m gonna see that you keep in condition for the fight.” Then I got the hardest jolt of all. “T’m all through with fights,” says the Kid. I thought the poor bird must have gone nutty or somethin’, but I can see he’s as cool as one of these here ice cream Cohens. “ Through with fights!” I raves. “ You mean you ain’t goin’ to fight Dolan?” “Not Dolan nor anybody else. =” “ But what the—” The Kid kinda laughs to himself, then walks over to a little desk, picks up an im- portant lookin’ paper, and hands it to me. *« Give this the once over,” says he. T read the paper, and I’m ready to pass out then and there. — For all it said was that oil had been struck on some piece of land the Kid owned in Oklahoma and the dough was rollin’ in on him so fast he’d soon have Henry Ford lookin’ like a flivver. No wonder the poor nut had ae nae at the Ritz. g A” Class? It was the classiest — out late and playin’~ -- <€om choo CSO