12 Sports Aces, January 1943 — page 61: what you’re looking at

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

KILL THE CHAMP! 39 Killer Blane stepped around the ref, let fly a roundhouse right. The ex-champ didn’t see it coming. It caught him flush in the meuth. The ex-champ went down and blood poured from his split ips. The - ref picked up the count. He was count- ing them off. And fast. Rowdy swore and glanced at the second hand of his watch. It took five seconds for the ref to reach eight. This, then, was the business. But the ex-champ was made of stern stuff. He rolled groggily to his feet. He went reeling in, arms up, punching the air full of holes. There was a smirk on the Killer’s mouth. You could read his mind. It was a blackboard, out there on his forehead, a blackboard of thoughts that were emblazoned in red chalk. The Killer had the ex-champ in the ring and he was giving him the works. The Killer liked it. He could put the for- mer champ away or he could cat-and- mouse Kktim. He decided on the latter. The Killer’s gloves laced Marty Allen’s face. A thumb closed Marty’s left eye. The ref turned away, looked bored with it all. Marty swore and closed in. But he was punching a target he could barely see. He was missing the target. Slowly the Killer’s gloves began to pile up red welts on Marty’s body until the welts melted and merged, beeame one huge swelling of redness. Marty Allen was sobbing—the des- perate sobs of a man who finds himself helpless against something he eannot un- derstand. He lurched ahead, swung a left that missed. Then he followed with a swift right that reminded Rowdy of the champ at his best. The blow connected! It caught the Killer flatfooted. It landed against his chin and the guy went roll- ing. The ref began to count. He counted slowly this time. Rowdy looked at his watch again. Twelve seconds were gone when the ref reached five. Then the bell rang. Rowdy didn’t like that, either. He had seen short rounds before. This one, despite the action, couldn’t have gone much beyond two minutes. But the crowd didn’t beef. They had paid four bits to see action and they were geeing it. Action was all they wanted. -o ‘Fhe ex-champ had won a couple of hun- dred bucks, but he had been counted out The ex-champ knew. His shoulders drooped a little more as he waited. Rowdy watched his wristwatch and two minutes went by while they were getting the Kill- er in shape. The Killer was ready again when he came back. He bulled his way through the ex-champ’s guard. He blasted a right to the chin, a left to the heart. Marty Allen went down and he did not get up. Not for five minutes. Then they had to help him from the ring. The crowd cheered. The crowd wanted more. The barker looked at the Killer and the Killer nodded. The barker stood in mid-ring. “If you gents want to see more, let a man among you step forward.” Rowdy Madden leaped toward the ring. The spieler took a look at him, but ap- parently did not recognize him in his rumpled clothes. He smiled faintly. “Okay, gents. Outside. You gotta buy new tickets. You’re gonna see a new show.” Rowdy had his ring togs. When the tent cleared, he changed his clothes in the ring, stuffed his street attire under the canvas. A few minutes later the crowd cme filing in. The ref called them out. But Rowdy didn’t leave his corner. He said, “I know -what to do.” He was looking straight at the Killer. “All I’ve got to do is tag him early. And brether, when you start count- ing, count right. I don’t want to have to take you, too.” ILLER BLANE grinned and his fangs stuck out yellowly, but there was fright in that grin. Killer Blane’s eyes showed recognition. He was fighting @ second ex-champ in the same evening and this guy could see! The bell rang. The Killer came out, and there was caution in the way he circled. Rowdy had just one thing in mind. He maneuvered ‘ Kill- er Blane into a corner. He feinted with his injured right and the Killer bit on it. He reached up to block the right. Rowdy fired his left in under his guard. It landed high and hard on | EComicbooks (CO)