12 Sports Aces, January 1943 — page 59: what you’re looking at

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

KILL THE CHAMP! 57 2 QnrBre Orr Que Gre Gor Ges Grr Grr Gor Os ors ae Gor Gro Gr G1 Or Ger Qor Geo Se> Ger Os Ser Ger Her Geese Gir Grr G++ Ges Ore Orr Geo Ger Grr Grr Ore Ger Hor Goo Gu Orr Ser Hor GorBrr Gere Oe Gor Gs GerGeeGor Ger Grr Ges o gonna reach down your throat and pinch off your appendix!” Frosty glared. He grabbed the col- lodion bottle. But he kept quiet. He worked silently until] the warning buzzer sent him seurrying out of the ring. Rowdy was still groggy when he went out. He tried to hold on as the challenger elosed with him, But Bork!lund brushed him aside with a flurry of body blows. A hook caught Rowdy in the neck and he started to fall, Two more smashing hooks sent him to the floor and again the ring was spinning. The ref looked uncertain. He wanted to stop the fight. It was in his eyes that he wanted to stop it. But the crowd was screaming to let it go on. Somehow Rowdy managed to attain his feet. He had to keep going. He had to weather it out. But the challenger was on top of him, driving those punishing fists into Rowdy’s face, shoving him back against the ropes, erucifying him. Rowdy knew he was fading. He had to gamble. One punch. One lucky punch... . OWDY swung, His fist smashed into a bony skull. His hand was afire. The fire raced up the arm and into Rowdy’s brain, There was another burst of fire inside his chest and he realized that he was going down. This time, if he fell, he would not get up. Rowdy clawed at the thick cigar smoke that was like a fog across the ring. The smoke would not hold him, He saw a leather bomb roaring toward his head. Self-preservation was strong within him. He pulled both hands up to protect his face. He took the jolt on his gloves. But the challenger shifted his attack. He drove a roundhouse left to the body. The blow landed just below the short ribs. It packed power and punishment. The leather sank deeply into Rowdy Madden’s non-resisting and tortured flesh. Ht pumped out Rowdy’s breath.... They carried him out. He did net know it. He did not hear the count. He did not hear the catcalls. He did not hear the sighs of relief as the ref said, “The win- nah and new echampeon—Gunner Bork- und.” Rowdy came out of it when they dumped water in his face. Frosty was there. His eyes were glacial as he stared down at Rowdy. He was cutting the glove off Rowdy’s right fist. The fist was swol- len and it was still afire. Rowdy stared down at it and felt a little faint. A bone had cut through the back of his hand. It looked messy. Frosty was jerking it around. He was talking a mile a minute. He was saying, “We had a chance and you blew it.” Rowdy got up. He swung once. He caught Frosty in the mouth and nothing had ever been 80 gloriously painful, He saw Frosty fall. He smiled a little. Then he fainted. ... The next day he saw Frosty again. Frosty had a report on the gate receipts. He said coldly, “It was a lousy crowd. Training expenses were high. A couple of thousand is all you cleared net.” Rowdy thought of his Mom and the kids. They needed dough. But not -that badly. He said, “I’m not gonna be fight- in’ for a while. Not with this smashed hand. I don’t like you, Frosty. I'll give you a thousand bucks for my contract. I want to be free.” Rowdy waited for Frosty to.make up his mind, At last Frosty said, “Okay. If that’s how you want it.” Frosty looked sad. He looked like a man whose gold mine had just turned to a depesit of sand. Rowdy said, ‘“‘So long, Frosty. I’m dyin’ for a breath of fresh air.” Frosty got it. He got out.... CHAPTER IV OWDY eould not get a fight. For three months he had been trying to line up a comeback campaign. But every- where it was the same. “You got a bad hand, Rowdy. Besides, you wouldn’t draw beans at the gate. The erowds wouldn’t come out. You got whipped once and that was what they wanted. They wouldn’t pay to see it again.” So he went to the smaller clubs. But even then, it was the same old wheeze, “We don’t want no one-handed fighters. EComichbooks (EO)