Adventure Magazine Cover — page 115: what you’re looking at

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

According to the Law “Can’t get no bottles, Jake,” says Joe nervously. “Then bring him a glass of milk,” Jake answered. “YT don’t think I particularly want to drink with you,” chips in young Mercer, looking his man up and down. At that Jake flares up and turns to Joe. “Bring the milk, and be —— sharp about it,” he orders. When it was brought he goes up close to Mercer. ‘“‘Are you going to drink this?” he says. “No,” answers the boy. “Then [ll wash your face with it,’’ says Jake; and, with that, he chucks the lot smack into Mercer’s face. Mercer didn’t hesitate a minute. He hit out like a kicking mule and Jake went down with a crash. I was mighty sorry for the boy, for I’d seen Jake fight; but I might have saved my sympathy. Jake got up and the Thatched House emptied into the street, for we wanted to see the fight. Jake was in his shirt sleeves and didn’t need to peel. Young Mercer stripped off his coat, and shirt too, and chucked them to me to hold. It was then we began to wonder if he’d got a sporting chance after all, for he stripped like a fighting man. His head was well set on, and his chest deeper than we had imagined. He was thin on the flanks, but his arm and shoul- -der muscles were what amazed us, for they rolled and rippled like steel springs under the smooth, white flesh, which had not yet been tanned by our African sun. Jake seemed to realize something of the same sort, for I saw him eyeing his opponent critically. I wish I could do that fight justice, for it was the most beautiful exhibition of brains and skill against brute force I’ve ever seen. Jake stood square on his huge legs. He looked like a monument, and you couldn’t imagine him being knocked down. We knew from past experience that despite his weight he could move quickly enough when he wanted. He looked so much bigger than his opponent, however, and his massive, ugly face looked so menacing that I, for one, began to fear afresh for young Mercer. He, for his part, did not seem in the least anxious. Stripped to the waist, he stepped forward ready and looked toward the ser- 105 geant of police, who, for formality’s sake, held a watch in the palm of his hand. “‘Time!”’ called the sergeant. Mercer faced his man with little weaving, intricate steps, breaking to left and right in a way which bespoke a previous knowledge of ring-craft. He was feeling his way, while Jake, with a watchful eye, pivoted slowly upon his right leg, his left arm partly extended, his right held low to guard the mark. This was different from his usual mad-bull, overbearing rush and showed that he appreciated something of his oppo- pent’s value. Suddenly he rushed in, hitting with all his might; but each time Mercer was just beyond the range of the great fist, watching his man and waiting for an opening. Almost immediately after he led lightly with his left, and then led again, getting home each time; but there seemed to be no power behind the blows. Then it was “‘Time.”? Mercer was quite fresh, but Jake’s great, hairy chest was laboring stormily. Jake opened the second round with a sudden rush, but Mercer slipped. sidewise and avoided him, then sprang in and de- livered a stinging punch to the ribs which set Jake gasping for his breath. Elated by his slight success, the boy led for the face, but got a swinging counter on the jaw, which shook him sadly. Instantly Jake rushed in to complete: his work, but Mercer, with his better knowledge of the art, kept out of harm’s way until the end of the round. : As the boy rested upon my knee I offered him a sup from my flask, but he waved it aside. “T may need it later,” he said. He was on his feet in a flash at the call of time and went straight for his man, his fist getting home with two clean smacks, one to the ribs and one flush between the eyes. That second punch would have fetched most men off their feet, but it didn’t seem to do more than daze Jake for a second. Mercer must have felt that he was win- ning then, for he mixed it up proper; but he got into a clinch with Jake, which was very nearly the end of him, for the big man smashed in a terrible uppercut which he only just broke with his guard. Jake tried another, Mercer dodged it; but got a swing- ing blow on the ear as he broke away. DOOK C©@