Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 213: what you’re looking at

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

The Trap hands and pushing rapidly to the ring. Mr. Crabbe, now clad in a sweater, followed and’ another man carried the paraphernalia. Marty wore no dressing-gown, but was swathed in a sweater and wore drawers of knee length. His hands were also bandaged. Bernstein dropped his bath-robe to the chair and stepped carefully on the scales. They wayered and settled at the exact weight required. He stepped off, and Marty, without removing his sweater, jumped carelessly on. The balance jumped up with his spring and then crashed back, remaining unmoved. Evidently he was well under weight. The fact did not seem to disturb him at all. The referee walked to the ropes and held up his hand while the fighters lounged be- side him and at some distance, the referee’ being between them. “‘Ladees and gemp’men!”’ the man shout- ed. ‘This bout is a fight between Young Kelly, welterweight champeen, an’ Marty McGuire, better known to all as ‘““Murderin’ Marty,” the peerless champeen of the world in the lightweight class. The bout will be fought to a finish, London rules prevailin’, and the breaks will be clean. The purse is ten thousand dollars, and the winner takes all! Ladees and gemp’men—Young Kelly, welterweight champeen!”’ Young Kelly, with a handsome smile, bowed to the four points of the compass, and a scattering hand-patter told that he had followers among the devotees of sport. The referee waved a grandiloquent arm toward the stubby figure on his other hand. “Murderin’ Marty, Lightweight Cham- peen of the World!” he bellowed, and the sky rocked with the cheers that answered, as McGuire ducked spasmodically to one side and then to the other. When the turmoil had somewhat sub- sided the referee read a telegram from some fighter or other who challenged the winner and offered any inducement for an accept- ance. Cat-calls and hoots answered this. Then “Kid Walcott,’”’ whom Bernstein had already whipped, sprang to the center of the ring and defied either or both of the principals to repeat that feat. The great fighters, both smiling contemp- tuously, took their seats, and their seconds busied themselves with their preparations. Marty McGuire, when the gloves had been picked over by the seconds, walked to Abe’s chair and examined ‘his opponent’s ait bandages while Abe did the same for his. Then both settled themselves while their seconds leaped from the ring. The referee, coatless and anxious, looked around him— and the bell rang. BOTH men were out of their seats and in the center of the ring before their alert seconds had jerked the through the ropes. They shook chairs hands, the referee walked between them and turned. _ Abe minced a few steps, while McGuire lowered his head and screwed his face to an awful grimace. He was solidly poised, his knees bent and his body crouched. One or two in the audience were a bit puzzled at his attitude, but to most of them it was en- tirely satisfactory and ferocious. The two men circled cautiously, as if’ they intended to go slow, realizing that the fight was to be limitless and that there would be plenty of time in which to warm up. But the impatient McGuire evidently found it hard to govern himself and, with- out warning, suddenly launched himself at Abe, swinging a terrific blow as he came. Abe deftly danced away from it, shoving his left hand lightly into Marty’s face as he did so. Marty shook his head and rushed, flailing away with both hands. The aston- ished and delighted crowd, not expecting such precipitate action, shook the welkin with cheers. But Abe, frowning a little, danced lightly away from McGuire, countering accurately, though without much force. Again the Irishman rushed in, bent on smashing his opponent to the ground, and again the wary Hebrew slid out of his reach. His swift left hand pumped precisely into Marty’s fea- tures at each exchange, and the latter’s face began to show red where the gloves pepper- ed him. He changed his tactics and slowed down, creeping slowly and steadily after his tan- talizing enemy, trying to corner him against the ropes. Each time, however, a side-step took Abe out of the trap. The bell rang with the two in the center of the ring, the Hebrew unmarked, while the Irishman was badly ruffled though evi- dently not at all damaged by the light blows which had found a lodgment on his features. Yet Abe seemed worried about something as he went to his corner. In the second round he took a chance on CoOMmicboooks CO