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Pulp Fiction, 1943 · page 51 of 100

12 Sports Aces, May 1943 — page 51: what you’re looking at

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12 Sports Aces, May 1943 — page 51: Pulp Fiction, 1943

What you’re looking at

# Page Content Analysis This is **story prose** from "The Punch Professor," a hardboiled crime tale. The page shows dialogue and narrative describing a criminal conspiracy: Spike Babb reveals to a young man named Brian that he may be the son of Mat Rourke, a boxer imprisoned for manslaughter in a rigged trial. Babb explains that Rourke's trainer, Terry Brian, disappeared before testifying, and that B. J. Benson, Rourke's restaurant manager, appears to have been involved in the frame-up. The younger Brian acknowledges he was raised by "Uncle Terry" and promises to check his birth certificate to verify his identity.

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

12SA THE PUNCH PROFESSOR 49 ~ = PL SER SEK eee See coe ete oe EEE Sed AY OEE nee oe D> Dee Oe ore ot oe ome Sie one See tow Sty fee One Soy eedey “Bat the Killer Birk crowd yelled foul, claimed the shot was low. There was a _ bubbub in the papers, and two nights after the fight Killer Birk came into the restaurant owned by the big Irisher and began calling dirty names. Well, the Trishman’s wife and two-year-old son was there and he tried to soft-pedal Birk so there wouldn’t be trouble. Birk wouldn’t listen. He dared his conqueror to come out in the alley.” Babb stopped a space. His wrinkled face was somber. “They went outside and in a minute or two the Irishman came back in. Next day he was arrested and charged with manslaughter, Killer Birk had been found in the alley that morning, dead. His skull was fractured. The Irisher’s trainer had gone outside with him and witnessed the fight. He told the newspa- - per boys that his man had knoeked Birk down with a clean sock to the jaw and gone back to his wife and kid. Birk got up after a bit and walked away under his own power. “The trainer thought he heard Birk and someone arguing at the mouth of the alley; he hadn’t investigated, knewing Birk was drunk and in quarrelsome mood. But he was positive that Birk had re- ceived no fractured skull from the sock to the jaw. . ‘Two days before the trial, the train- er mysteriously disappeared, and without his testimony, the jury brought in a ver- dict of guilty against the Irishman. The sentence was five to fifteen years.” Spike Babb held the gaze of Mathew — Rourke Brian, added slowly: “Terry Brian was the trainer’s name. No one in the boxing game ever heard of him again. The man who was railroaded for manslaughter was Mat Rourke, probably Mathew was his whole name, And except for your hair being brown, you look like him, lad. Mathew Rourke Brian. By Judas! Coincidence don’t go so far as you havin’ a handle like that!” “You—you mean you think—that is, you are intimating that I—” “] think you’re Mat Rourke’s kid.” Babb cut through the other’s stammer. “How old are you, lad?” —“Twenty-four,” Brian said absently. His forehead was wrinkled and an odd gleam was in his eyes. Me muttered, “Terry Brian. Uncie Terry.” Suddenly he looked at Spike Babb. “I never knew my parents. They— they died when I was very young. Uncle Terry Brian raised me, He never spoke much about my parents,” “Mat Rourke was killed in a prison uprising,” Babb said, “Less than a year after he was sent up. He tried to hold back a mob storming the prison yard guards and some con stabbed him to death. I don’t know about Mrs. Rourke. They say she died of a broken heart when all efforts she made to clear Mat failed.” A little silence held the room, It was broken by the younger man. “It is possible that you are correct, Babb,” he said. “I can understand why Uncle Terry might have kept the true facts of my immediate ancestry from me. Uncle Terry was gored by a bull on the farm, two years ago, and died before I could get home, but he left a box of papers. I’ve never had oceasion to use it, but I’m sure my birth certificate is in that box. It will not be difficult to check. As- suming that I am Mathew Rourke, Jr., I fail to see where any light is shed on Bat- tler Alders’ attack and lying story to the newspaper.” . Spike Babb said, “That’s where B. J. Benson comes in, Benson was Mat Rourke’s manager. They were in together on the restaurant; the money undoubted- ly came from purses Mat Rourke earned. Shortly after Mat’s trial, Benson opened a second restaurant. The angle I see is that Benson gypped Mrs. Rourke out of= Mat’s share of the restaurants and went on to build the famous Benson Restau- rant chain. If that’s true, he’d be jittery of anyone named Mathew Rourke being near him. “Benson’s on the Ruxford College Board, he’d know when the president sent your name before the board for confirma- tion. Only he had to make it look like it wasn’t him that got rid of you. Mathew Rourke Brian means something to Ben- son and—” . “What better way of queering you than “comicbooks (E(9)