Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 197: what you’re looking at

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

The.frap assembled two dimes, a nickel and a quarter, and, placing them on the sheaf of bills, laid the whole on the rough shelf that did duty as a dressing-table. “And if you don’t take my word for it, that there is all we took in,” he said, “‘you can go and ask the man on ‘the gate.” The pugilist, profoundly admiring the art displayed in this careful accounting, looked from the money to the promoter and back again. ‘“‘And what does that dub I just smeared get?” he asked. Dinky Burgess smiled scornfully. “Him?” he remarked. “He didn’t have no guarantee nor nothing. I reckon he'll have to pan-handle it home.” Abraham Bernstein, otherwise known to” fame as ““Young Kelly, Welter-weight Cham- pion of the World” let his gaze rest on the dusty rafters and whistled softly. But Dinky Burgess was, in spite of his superior size and bulk, relieved to see that there was no sign of anger or indication of revengeful intent in his attitude or manner. He mused over some thought for a few minutes before he spoke, and the promoter mean- while cleared his throat and mopped his head, uncomfortable and at a disadvantage. “It’s sure a fact that there don’t seem to be much interest in boxing down this way,” said Abe, at last. His voice indicated the regret that he felt at the fact and the resignation with which he accepted it. Burgess, his confi- dence restored as soon as the prizefighter had spoken the soft answer, broke out into eager disclaimer. “Tt ain’t so, Abey,” he rejoined. “If I could put on the right kind of a bout, there’s ten thousand in Fort Jones and round about that’d pay from one to five for seats. But you know yourself, because you wouldn’t be fightin’ for no five hundred guarantee if you didn’t, that there ain’t no interest in ~ the welters. If you was a light-weight or a middle, as I says before, you could draw the crowds—but the welters don’t get the publicity. ‘“‘When I sat there tonight and heard you, just before the bell rang, get off that hot air about bein’ willing to fight anybody in the world that was anywheres near your size, I couldn’t help wishin’ you could make one ‘thirty-eight or less and sign up to meet Marty McGuire himself. You see how it goes, don’t you? Here’s McGuire—light- 195 weight by name, though they say he couldn’t make one thirty-three and be strong enough to break an egg, yet he figures as ‘‘Murderin’ Marty” and names his own price. While you, as much a cham- pion as him, can’t draw a bigger crowd in a sportin? community than we had here tonight. It’s just because you’re a welter and nothin’ else.” Young Kelly pondered this proposition extensively. “Tt looks like there’s something in what you say, Dinky,” he admitted. ‘Maybe, though, it’s just because there ain’t any real class to the welters. I got to fight seeds like this Kid Walcott because, since Benny O’Keefe went up to the middles and Marty McGuire still poses as a light-weight, there ain’t any other kind in the class.”’ ‘“‘And,” remarked Burgess with a laugh intended to take the sting out of the words, ‘if there was, it’s some likely you wouldn’t be claimin’ to be champion of the world. Hey!” But Abe frowned at this levity, his small eyes growing hard and menacing. “Tf you think,” he said unpleasantly, his jaw moving outward a trifle, “that I’m nothin’ but a cheese champ, I’ll take you on at catch-weights, no rules at all, and tear the block offa you in quicker time than it took to put it on. Just say the word, sport—say the word!”’ “‘Nothin’ personal at all, Abe!” Burgess cried. “I wasn’t knockin’ you one bit! I was just remarkin’ on the fact that you got your title really by default, since O’Keefe went to fightin’ middles before you could get a erack at him. I don’t take no stock at all in what some of them says when they ask who you ever licked to get the championship. I know Marty McGuire said you wouldn’t even make a fair sparrin’ partner, but if he thinks you’re so poor as all that, why don’t he take up your chal- lenge? It ain’t the first time you’ve offered to take him on like you did again tonight, and it looks to me like he’s afraid of you.” “There ain’t any question of that,” agreed Abe candidly. ‘‘I’ve offered to fight that guy at a hundred and thirty-six at three o’clock—and he can’t make much better himself—any way he wants to split the purse. But can I get a rise outa him? I can—like a lead ball!’’ Burgess shook his head mournfully. “IT don’t take too much stock in these CoOMmichoooks C©