Adventure, November 1915 — page 137: what you’re looking at

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

The Return of Billy Blain “Let him prove it! I release him! I give him back his promise!” Mrs. Billy seized O’Hanlon by the arm, and tugged at him to make him notice her. “Did ye hear that?” asked O’Hanlon, with a sudden calmness and something re- sembling triumph in his voice. “Did ye hear? Billy Blain here challenges for the championship—or rather, he takes it up again. He’s champion now! There’s no- body dares try to lick him!” “Wé hear!” yelled Sweeny and Strobinski both together. ‘‘Are you his second? You his manager? You ready to sign for him? Good! On your way, Connolly! We'll do the rest.”’ eraey AS IF the whole thing were a stage 98 performance, prearranged and per- vas*’e fectly worked out, Connolly walked off. Sweeny and Strobinski, followed close- ly by Casey, led Terence O’Hanlon to a neighboring saloon. Billy and his wife went back together to the office. “Oh, what did I do it for?’’ moaned Mrs. Billy, refusing to be comforted. “I was mad! If I’d had half your strength of mind I’d never have given you that promise back. You’d never have fought again. And now —it’s all my fault—you’ll fight—and you'll be—b-b-beaten!” No promises or arguments of Billy’s had the least effect on her. She was disconso- late. Her little slowly cultivated world of middle-class conventions seemed to have fallen away from her at one swift drop. She was even inconsolable when Terence came back beaming, like a man who has the best of things. “The whole business was a plant,’ he grinned. “From the start it was a trick to get you back into the ring, my son! I’ve agreed that their five thousand is to be posted again with Dunlop, but this time as a stake, and we’re to cover it by Monday . afternoon. They give us odds—five thou- sand to four thousand for a ten-round go at Sweeny’s Colosseum this day six weeks. Weigh in at the ringside, welterweight or less. Sweeny offers sixty-six per cent. of the gate, to be divided equally.” “But we haven’t got four thousand!” moaned Mrs. Billy. “Mortgage the shop!’ ordered Billy. “How about the buzz wagon, Terence?” “We can have it back the minute we cover their stake.” 135 “Allright. Were there any other terms?” “Had to agree to their referee—Engle- hart.” “Terence! D’you mean that?” “Sure I do. What’s the matter?” “Only this. Englehart has refereed every fight that Connolly has won. drives a trotter these days. D’you suppose that Englehart’ll give me an even chance to win?” “My mistake, sonny!” said O’Hanlon. “My mistake, but Pll fix it. Dll interview this fellow Englehart and soak him with a piece of wood. He'll not referee the fight.” : “No,” said Billy quietly. ‘We'll have no dirty work, thanks. We stand to win about ten thousand, don’t we, counting the gate receipts? And we need four thousand to cover their stake? Raise the money, Terence. Mortgage the place—go ahead. Stack one thousand away in some safe place in case of accident, and cover all the two- to-one money you can get with anything that’s over. It’s make or break. No half measures! I'll do the fighting. training from this minute!” V THINGS panned out better than had been expected, for the advertis- ing, free and otherwise, had been enormous. The moving-picture people paid a handsome premium for the right to photo- graph the fight. Billy stood to make fifteen hundred dollars extra from that source alone. .The advance bookings were tre- I’m in Englehart — mendous, for the crowd remembered Billy | Blain and swarmed to see him. Before eight o’clock on the evening of the fight they were turning away money, and that was proof positive that Sweeny could not have crowded in one more specta- tor anywhere, even with the aid of a hy- draulic ram. Billy’s share of the gate re- ceipts alone would be six thousand dollars, so that his stake would be covered, win or lose; but it was a gloomy little party, all the same, that started off for Sweeny’s Colos- seum. ; As Billy and O’Hanlon knew, as the crowd knew, as Mike Connolly and his sec- onds knew, as the papers had been croak- ing for the past six weeks, it is no light matter for a has-been champion, with only - six weeks’ time to train in, to endeavor to Gomichboo <S) (C (EO) m :