Adventure Magazine Cover, October 30, 1924 — page 156: what you’re looking at

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

146 Webster got up, overturning his chair backwards in his haste, and shedding his coat as he rose. “Buck—look out!’ shouted the one called Frank, who then himself lunged forward at Webster with a fist balanced to swing. But Webster spilled him with a right to the jaw, then ducked—but not low enough, and Buck’s knuckles ripped the skin on the back of his head. Webster straightened up with a hay- maker to the jaw’s tip, and Buck took two steps backward. “T see we’re going to put on a show,” he said as he dropped his coat behind him. “Begins to seem like home!” With that he rushed. Frank, coming to his feet, gathered him- self to take Webster from the rear, for this was a bar-room row, and the Marquis of Queensbury never had a great deal of in- fluence along the waterfront. But before Frank got under weigh, the Duke was before him. The Duke was tall, straight, with sensi- tive features and an ease of manner that was almost too graceful to be manly. The Duke knew the Marquis of Queensbury and respected him. He now held his hands like a boxer’s, not to be tightly shut until the blow was on its way. But there was no crouch, no scowl of brow, no sneering twist of lips to the side of clenched jaw. The Duke was a good man with his fists, though in a fight to the finish Webster was the better. With the Duke, fighting was more than a science—it was an art. For a moment Frank hesitated as one hesitates before something odd. But when he started he came headlong, with short neck: shortened; and the Duke drove a right straight to his nose, starting the blood, then he stepped deftly aside as Frank’s heavy fist whirled through the air. ‘Instantly, again, the Duke threw a right to the nose, following it with a lightning left that raised a bump on Frank’s right eye. Frank lunged, swinging right and left. The Duke moved his head three inches and the right missed, shifted his feet and the left went wild. ‘““What the !? Frank roared. “Why don’t you stand still!” The Duke stepped in, drove one knot of knuckles into Frank’s stomach, another Adventure against the dripping nose and slid out again. 3 The Duke, being an artist and not caring to nurse broken hands, picked out soft spots for his knuckles. Frank hit the air a mighty blow. The Duke ducked, rose, put one fist against the sore nose, reached to the short ribs with the other, then moved his head back two inches beyond the hurtling fist that de- scribed a full half-circle in a sweeping reach to knock him through the wall. The Duke then shifted his feet, femted for the head, and as Frank raised his arms to guard the precious nose, the Duke crouched low, bent forward and whipped an overhand right into the pit of Frank’s stomach. Frank gasped as if suddenly stricken with asthma, clapped both hands to his stomach, half turned and sank to the floor, nearly unconscious, but huddling himself into a knot, in the midst of his helplessness pro- tecting his head as much as he could, for he expected to be kicked all over the place. Nothing happened. By trying hard he got a bit of air inside of him, then opened his eyes. The Duke was standing by, hands at the side, waiting, watching. “Get up,” said the Duke, finish it? = | “T can’t,” gasped Frank, writhing as he tried. : ee “Allow me to help you,” said the Duke, putting out his hand and stooping. .— “Go to ,? said Frank. “TI: know when I’m licked.” , | | re He groaned, and twisted himself around to see what was going on ‘there in the center of the room that shook the floor with heavy tread and stamping. The air was filled with the sound of smack and crack cf fist to face. — But. he could see nothing except a twin- kling glimpse between the legs of onlookers that had circled round the fighters. The slummers and their party of hangers- on were gathered there, having lost all in- terest in the other fight as soon as Trank hit the floor and stayed down. The big spender was a large-bellied man, with a heavy watch charm dangling over his stomach; he had flabby cheeks and a loose mouth, and a patronizing air of good fel- lowship. His two friends were much like him, well fed, with sleck cheeks, freshly “and we'll comicbooks.c© nn)