12 Sports Aces, January 1943 — page 66: what you’re looking at

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

64 12 SPORTS ACES << ihepapiactiigics ceiuaneiebesieiilamabeaababibcmenaiman bedubatnaigmenpiaanediatmaaam tam mmeninbiiaoaatins Rowdy brushed away from him. He hit him with rights and lefts, batted him back against the ropes. Rowdy’s knees went rubbery. They corkscrewed beneath him. The canvas came up and hit him in the pants, He sat there. His mouth was dry at first, then there came a rush of saliva into the little pockets back of his tongue, the way it always is just before you’re sick. The ref was waving his arm.... “Four ee Se Be ody ‘zhook his head, Marty was screaming. “Take it, Rowdy. Take the count,” Rowdy obeyed his manager. He did not get up until the count reached nine, main- ly because until the count reached nine he could not move. Rowdy staggered as he got up. The champ surged in and belted him in the face, Rowdy went down again. He took a full bucket—nine counts. When he got up, the ref came over and brushed his gloves, The ref had a question in his eyes. Rowdy answered it with a snarl, The fight went on, The champ pressed in close and Rowdy managed to hook his chin over the champ’s shoulder and hang on for a few precious seconds. But it was not enough. The ref parted them and once again Gunner Borkiund went to work. He had his quarry groggy and he pressed his ad- vantage. He put Rowdy over in a corner. Rowdy ducked his head and covered it with his arms and gloves. He was like a turtle trying to protect himself from the hoof of a Kicking mule. His shell of pro- tection held through five straight jolts. The sixth jolt went through. OWDY took the punch in the face. He went down again, This time he was down at the bell and the count had reached seven, The ref came over. The ref watched Marty go to work on Rowdy with prac- ticed, sympathetic hands. The ref said, “I think he’s had enough.” Marty wanted to win. But he was de- cent about it. He looked at Rowdy, He held a bottle of smelling salts under his nose and when Rowdy swore, Marty said, “It’s up to you. Do you think you can go back out there?” =~ Rowdy said, “If you can push me hard enough, Marty said, “He’ll be there.” The ref left and Marty worked, and all of that time Marty was talking, “I have- n’t got long. But I’ve saved it until you could use it. Gunner Borklund jobbed you out of.the championship. This is your time to get back at him. He’s the dirtiest champ in the business. You've got a score to settie with him,” Rowdy was dazed. And angry. He said, ‘Tell me some more,” Marty talked swiftiy. “Frosty was afraid that if you did manage to win, he'd lose you to the Army. He couldn’t use a fighter who was in the Army, and he wanted to be sure to be on the winning side, So he rigged it so you wouldn’t win. He told you Borklund’s right was weak. You took a couple of easy ones and got cocky. So Borklund belted you into dream- land.” The buzzer sounded. Rowdy said, quick- ly, “What was Frosty getting out of it?” “Plenty,” Marty said. “I'll tell you later—if you stay awake out there.” Rowdy stayed awake. His head had cleared, more from shock than anything. He took a punching during that second round, but he was rolling with the punches, taking the shock out of them. He weathered out the round on strictly defensive fighting, and when he came back to his corner he was fresher eye when he’d gone out. Marty kept talking as he worked over Rowdy. “Frosty knew that Borkiund would be a good champ, that he'd last a long time and that he’d make a lot of money. So he made a quiet deal with Borklund’s manager. In return for rig- ging the fight for Borklund, the manager would cut back half the profits to Frosty after Borklund won the title.” Rowdy remembered a tot of things, “That tramp. Frosty acted like it was killing him when I was losing, But that was camouflage. All the time he was grin- ning inside.” “He couldn't afford to let it be known that he had a piece of Borklund's contract. Gomicbooks (E@)