Adventure, November 1915 — page 136: what you’re looking at

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

en a Fes thee FO CATED UC EE ABE a ee Sree ' A ' : : ep Pe eA Ty » tans : AT is ; 134 of his forearms swelled and _ twitched. “Call in the Sheriff, hey? Call that the action of a gentleman? I was goin’ to buy that car. I was goin’ to offer you four thousand for the junk—and that’s three thousand more than it was ever worth. Now seein’ how you’ve behaved, I'll offer you a thousand. You can suit yourself. Take the thousand or fight.” “T’ll fight,” said Billy, speaking through thin lips, but keeping his voice down to a dead, wickedly calm level. “Legal fightin’s about all you care about,” suggested Connolly. “It’s pretty easy to see why you left the ring!” Terence O’Hanlon took a long pace near- er, and Ephraim Strobinski executed an immediate flank movement to cover him. Some kind of strategy was evidently being worked out. It became Sweeny’s turn to take a hand in things. With upturned palms and ges- tures that were eloquent of sweet concilia- tion, he slipped in between Connolly and Billy Blain, even making some show of el- bowing Mike Connolly, as if he had had enough already of that gentleman’s opin- ion. “Now, see here, Mr. Blain,’ he inter- vened. ‘See here now. You much better settle this amicable, between gentlemen, y understand. Now see. If him an’ you go to law over this, you'll be fightin’ and appealin’ and fightin’ again for a year or more. Now, why not settle out o’ Court? Be reasonable, same as any man 0’ business would be.” ‘“‘We’ve got a hearing set for the case on Monday next,” said Billy, with a sinking in his heart that very nearly found expres- _ sion in his voice. “Sure you have,’ sneered Connolly. “That’s when we begin! We'll fight for three years from then on, if your money lasts that long!” “Fight?” It was Mrs. Billy’s turn. She simply had to interfere. She could not help herself. She pressed forward between the past and present champions and faced Connolly, like a wet hen with. one chicken facing a stray cat. “Fight,” she repeated—very quietly, al- though she trembled like a boiler under steam now. Her ruffled feathers were all smooth again, and she looked much more dangerous. ~ Adventure “All you dare fight is boys in the prelims! You’re a good hand, you are, at beating up the ‘hopes,’ but if a real man offered to put the gloves on with you, you’d run away! Fight, with you and your crowd, means underhanded trickery. Use another word, please.”’ “My quarrel ain’t with you,” sneered Connolly, pushing her out of the way, and turning to face Billy. He had not turned . before he realized that what he had come for was achieved. Billy’s fist caught him be- hind the ear as he turned, and spun him like a top.. The blood squirted from his ear, in proof of the fact that Billy’s old terrific left had lost little, if any, of its cunning, and the right that followed to the jaw sent the present champion headlong in the mud. Sweeny and Strobinski rushed forward in a quite unnecessary movement to protect the prostrate Connolly. Billy was standing still, with his arms folded again and his nos- trils dilated. Terence O’Hanlon dragged him back and stood in frent of him, and ina second he and Sweeny and Strobinski were windmilling in a wordy argument, through which the titles ‘coward,’ ‘“shyster,” “sucker,” alternated with reiterated bellow- ings of “crooks” and “robbers.” “Yah!” yelled Strobinski. “Your man dasn’t fight a blind man! That’s his line— a punch when the other isn’t looking. Hits out from behind a womah’s skirts. That’s the way hé won the championship!’ “That’s false!”’ hissed Mrs. Billy, wading in again. After more than four years of married life her husband was her hero still. “He could fight and beat two Connol- lys!” : “Yah! Talk’s easy! Here comes the skirt again!’ | Connolly had found his feet again by this time, and had wiped off a little of the blood. His suit was ruined though. “Quit arguin’!” he ordered. ‘‘What’s the good o’ talkin’ to a coward? He dasn’t fight.” Billy made an instant move to give the lie to that assertion, but Terence O’Hanlon caught him around the waist and held him back. “My man here is the unwhipped cham- pion o’ the welters,’ declared. Terence. “Tf he wasn’t a man of his word—if he hadn’t promised—he’d prove it. He’d whip anything on legs that dared stand up to him!’’ Eomichbooks EC)