Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 202: what you’re looking at

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

200 following fifteen rounds; that he didn’t be- lieve Kelly could ever be dragged within reach of himself again, or he would imme- diately accept his challenge. McGuire stated further he didn’t want any the best of the purse, but would fight said Kelly at any time and any place before a reputable club, if only some binding guarantee could be given that said Kelly would be compelled to climb the ropes and stand still long enough for McGuire to get one solid blow at him. In final expression of opinion he referred to his rival as a “‘yellow Jew.” The letter from Crabbe was not so lurid. He simply said that, in view of the insulting remarks made by this Young Kelly his own protégé stood ready, whenever a suitable purse should be guaranteed by the Fort Jones Athletic Association, or any other responsible body of sporting men, to meet the said Young Kelly at any distance the law allowed, the purse to be divided sixty per cent. to the winner and forty to the loser, the winner to get half of the moving- picture receipts. Fighters to have the privi- lege of a percentage of the gate instead of the guarantee if they so elected. Weight to be one hundred and thirty-eight pounds ringside. IT MAY well be imagined that, in a town like Fort Jones where the streets were full of men who had made fortunes almost overnight in the oil- fields, and who were of the extreme sport- ing type, almost to a man, this presage of excitement created a great deal of talk. Knots of citizens of this and surrounding counties gathered on the corners and asked each other what they knew about that! Many a man buttonholed Dinky Burgess and offered to loosen the band around his wallet and contribute a portion of any guar- antee required. Others begged him to list them for a certain number of choice ring- side seats and waived the question of price altogether. But there were many who were skeptical. The recent bouts had been of so mediocre description that they believed the whole thing to be nothing but a fake. There were those who had heard of or seen Young Kelly’s performance against Walcott, an admitted third-rater, and who generally regarded the alleged welter-weight cham- pion as a bare second-rater himself, and one whom Marty McGuire, the famous Adventure “Murdering Marty,” would dispose of with- out any trouble whatever. Yet even these had to admit that, in the fight at New Orleans, pulled off over a year ago, this same Young Kelly had actually knocked the famous McGuire to the floor and only the bell had saved him from a knock-out. Whatever might be the explanations or excuses offered for this event, the fact re- mained unchallenged, and so Kelly’s chances were thought by many to be more than good. The state law, however, restricted all boxing exhibitions to a duration of ten rounds, and this was the cause of much regret. The populace of Fort Jones was desirous of getting a settlement of the mooted question of superiority that would satisfy for all time, and nothing but a finish fight offered that certainty. Around the hotel, especially, there was much talk and discussion of the approach- ing event, and Kelly’s comings and goings were watched with extreme interest. There were those who noted that his expression had become morose and belligerent, and it was common knowledge that he had ex- pressed himself in terms that left no doubt of his bitterness toward his rival. Even Miss Carola knew this to be a fact. For had not Kelly, on the morning following the publication of that insolent letter, stopped at her counter for a package of chewing-gum, and had he not, on that occasion, been hard put to it to conceal his grief and rage? So obviously had this been so that she had called attention to it and even tried to cheer him up. “Why, Mistah Kelly!”’ she had breathed sympathetically. ‘Yuh look all to’e up oveh something! Sholy now, you ahen’t taking that disgusting story in the papeh sehiously, ahe you?” Kelly had gritted his white teeth audibly. ‘“No!”? he had choked. ‘I’m not paying any attention to that hog-wash, Miss Carola! But what I been telling you is proved by this guy, ain’t it? I want to ask you how a gentleman could stay in such a low game as this when that’s the kind of stuff he has to run up against? “T ain’t caring, myself, what this here low-brow, McGuire, calls me! I fixed him once before—and I can do it again. But think what it means to a man like me, a fellow what has the class I got, to have to read myself called names like that! ‘Yel- low Jew!’ Mea Jew! And it’s a fact I’m CoOMmMichoooks (©