Adventure, August 1917 — page 106: what you’re looking at

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

104 light of understanding. Minton wanted the battle to begin at once. So Hanson walked straight to Rush Gud- ridge, who stood with his brother beside the steps, and said quietly: “Gud, let’s have a fight.” All the other loggers heard it, and instant silence fell over them. It was the unbe- lievable. “You don’t mean it,”’ growled Rush Gud- ridge. “Ves, I mean it. And I’ll wager every- thing I’ve got—except only my fiddle—that I can thrash you just as hard as ever you thrashed any other poor devil,” said Ward- law Hanson. A pleased expression spread over Gud- ridge’s coarse, heavy countenance. Fight- ing was the chief pleasure that the world had to offer him. “Put everything you’ve got—I wouldn’t have your damned fiddle—with the super,” he said. “Put up your money, your clothes, everything you’ve got but the fiddle—I’ll match it all.” Hanson had saved two hundred dollars from his wages—with that money he had hoped to finance his start at housekeeping with Sadie Flowers for his wife—and this he placed in the superintendent’s hands. Gud- ridge borrowed from his brother and from his friends, and covered the amount. Then they staked their clothing, their watches, even their pocket-knives. ‘“‘And I’ll go you one better,”’ dared Gud- ridge. “T’ll bet you my life against your lite. “That would be my bettin’ a great deal against almost nothin’,’’ replied Hanson, “but I’m game to the bone, if I do say it myself. How is the thing to be arranged?”’ It was a wholly unprecedented experience for Gudridge. He was white with anger now. ‘“‘This is how,”’ he fumed. ‘“The man who is bested in this scrap takes a gun and kills himself.”’ Now to keep his word was a cardinal point in Ward Hanson’s own particular religion, therefore Gudridge’s daring proposal was staggering to him. It struck him with all the force of a bullet. But he couldn’t let Gudridge back him down. Anyway, he was sure of winning. He kept a firm grip on himself, and said as though he were pleased with the idea: “In the presence of all o’ these witnesses, I agree to that.” Adventure *“Fool,’’ whispered some friends behind him. And Kid Minton, in a voice that was weak but full of delight, cried out: ‘“‘That’s the dope, Hansy!”’ Minton forthwith took charge of his man, and he had an immense pride in it. By the little ex-pugilist’s orders, Hanson ‘removed his laced boots and put on a pair of light shoes that had calks in their soles, he shed his thick blue flannel shirt, cut out entirely the sleeves of his undershirt, and took up his belt two notches. While this was being done, the timber-jack champion looked on and smiled pityingly—as for himself, he would fight in the clothing he wore when he worked in the woods. Then the belligerents chose a level spot between the boarding-house and the com- missary, and a ring of anxious and expectant faces was quickly formed around them. The sun was not yet far enough aslant to afford a disadvantage for either of the two. Hanson put up his guard, and bent his shoulders and his knees in the crouch that is familiar to all devotees of the prize ring. Gudridge towered erect and smiled confi- dently. The contrast between them was sharp, indeed. Hanson was clean-limbed and strong, intelligent and determined— but the bully was so very much bigger. As was his way in these contests that were without rules, rests or gloves, Rush Gud- ridge sprang into action with the sudden- ness of a thunder-clap. Hanson, sure of himself, merely played safe now, and his antagonist wondered why he couldn’t land one of his mighty blows. A few minutes of this, and Hanson planted a right neatly on the champion’s mouth. Gudridge roared in a blind rage, struck wildly and missed, struck wildly again and missed, strove for a clinch and found his great arms empty. The ever watchful Minton cried: “Oh, you big—brainless beef. Some class to him, ain’t there? He’ll save you the trouble—o’ committing suicide.” This seemed only to bring Gudridge to his senses. He back-stepped, breathing rapidly but easily, and appeared to be de- liberately taking Hanson’s measure with his eyes. Hanson pressed him, and the ring of gaping timber-jacks gave away to accom- modate the two. Gudridge then feinted with one knotted hand and drove the other hard to Hanson’s chest. Hanson reeled to the edge of the ring before he caught his footing, and Minton groaned. cComicaook (© 5}