Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 19, 1924 — page 124: what you’re looking at

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

¢ E he id bar oo ) eu hs ee a? he - . indo DUS ERO wy) shaly little practice at it. a SS oo = Sin a ve 594 time we gets together we tries to kid each other for a funeral. Joe Gender grabs me by the arm and whispers something pitiful in my ear. “Say,” he moans, “I don’t want to be seen by all them fellows. They’ll laugh at me.”’ “Tf they does,” I says hoarsely, ‘‘ smack ’em for a juicy grapefruit and tell ’em to go home.” I don’t know whether you has ever been round a lot of roughneck fighters, third rate euys that never had no brains and less sense; if you has, you knows they ain’t got a bit of respect for nobody and thinks everything is funny. Well, I don’t no more’n lead my man up to the bag-and start to show him a little about it when One-round Poppy goes into a long, howling cry and begins to razz the life out of me and my boy. Joe don’t say nothing, but he gets red and nervous; he punches the bag pretty good as he has had a But when he makes one heavy stab for it and misses, falling over against the wall some few feet away, everybody yells with joy. And the minute they goes into this comedy stuff, Joe turns round and leans against the wall and some tears comes into his eyes. “Vou big stiffs!” I yells. ‘ Ain’t you get no respect for nobody? Lay offen my boy or I'll sic him onto you—and when you wakes up you'll think it’s Decoration Day!” “ Where do you get that soft soap, Tad?” One-round Poppy bawls, stepping across to- ward Joe. ‘You ain’t tryin’ to kid the game by wastin’ your time with that big bean. Say, if anybody ever slapped him he’d curl up and cry himself to death.” “Lay off!” I howls, pointing my finger at Poppy. ‘ Don’t pull none of your cheese jokes here, see?” But this don’t have no effect on One- round, and he goes right over, and putting his hands on his hips, looks into Joe’s face and laughs. The rest of the bums standin’ round thinks this is film fun stuff. If Han- die had ’a’ been here I’d reported them, but Ike was off some place fishin’, and so I has to stand for this low comedy. “Looky,” says One-round Poppy, stick- ; ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, ing his jaw out, “they has let a big baby in. Say, cry kid, wasn’t your mamma sorry you was born?” Now this here was just the wrong thing for Poppy to say. Yes, sir! I looks at Joe and I sees him straighten up the same as if he has been shot. His eyes gleams like a couple of beads and he moves toward Poppy just one step. “You keep your dirty mouth shut about my mother,” he says throatily. _ ‘“ She’s dead, and I ain’t havin’ no rat like you mention her.” “ Shut up, you flat-footed turtle!” Poppy hisses; and he playfully smacks Joe in the mouth. Then he steps back, thinking Joe will go into some more crying. But, no, sir. Joe just hauls off and socks Poppy right on the point of the jaw. Not very hard, you understand, as I don’t think Joe meant it. Anyways, Poppy’s head goes back like a baseball bat has caressed him and he does a short grunt. When he comes back to foot-balance, he swings over a wicked right and slams Joe a hummer. Now Poppy is a pretty heavy hitter and most any guy that received that smack would a frozen up and died right there on the floor. But Joe don’t do nothing only kinda screw his mouth up like a little bug has bit him; his lip begins to bleed and while One-round is standin’ staring at him, Joe grabs him by both hands and says: 2 “I don’t want to hurt nobody, and you better quit now, mister.” This gets Poppy crazy and he tries to break loose; but he might just as well tried to tear himself out of a steel bear-trap. The other boys crowds ’round and looks at this funny sight and I sees they appears to be surprised. “This guy is a rassler!’? Poppy yells, fighting to get loose. “I told you to lay off!’’ I shrieks, rock- ing to and fro with laughter. “ Listen, you ain’t never seen nothin’ like this boy in this here part of the country. He’s a whiz, and you oughta see him draw pictures with a pen and some ink.” This here last remark seems to please Joe considerably, for he looks over at me with a dumb-bell grin, still holding onto Poppy the same as if he was tying a one year old baby to the crib. oO Eomichoo CS: (S@)