Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 14, 1928 — page 132: what you’re looking at

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

270 get out of the way of the terrible pun- ishment Bill was giving him. Bill came in again. This time it was a left hook to the jaw. Jack’s head went back with a snap that was heard all over the gym. He sank to the floor. Jim Duffy began to count. “ One-two-three-four—” — Jack tried to get up, and’ fell back to the canvas again. Duffy droned on. ‘* Five-six-seven—’”’ Dimly through the haze, Jack heard the numbers. <A saucy face, framed with red, curly hair flashed through his brain. He must get up. She was ex- pecting him. He raised himself on his hands. He saw Bill, in his corner, looking at him with curious eyes. “ Kight-nine—” “‘ Br-r-r-r—” the bell interrupted. The round was over! The fight had not yet been won. The bell saved the day for Jack. The crowd settled back in its seats once more. The strained look came off every face. Jack was brought to his corner. Sec- onds worked on him. He rested, head back on the ropes. The third round began more sober- ly. Bill had used up an immefise amount of energy in his furious at- tacks on Jack in the second round. Jack himself was tired, but he felt his strength returning to him every second. All at once they mixed. A couple of wild wildcats could not have done any better. All the punches known to the science of boxing were released. The end happened so suddenly that its rapidity and unusualness left every- body stunned, silent and wide-eyed in their seats. Red dashed his fist, with all his strength, to the point of Bill’s chin. “At the same instant Bill’s fist sought, and found, Red’s solar plexus. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Both men went down in a heap. Duffy stood over them and began counting. : ‘ One-two-three-four-five-six-seven- eight-nine—”’ He hesitated, as if uncertain whether to goon. Then: ‘Ten The grizzled coach scratched his woolly gray head. “Well—Tll be damned!” he ex- ploded. “Them two roommates niver will decide which be the better man.” A cadet, with a red sash across his gray clad shoulder, another one around his waist from which depended a glit- tering sword, dashed to the platform. He was the cadet officer of the day, and the official deliverer of telegrams. He waved two yellow envelopes in the air. In the ring, the seconds were busily trying to revive the two roommates. Finally, one of them noticed the O. D. “Who are they for?” he called. “For Fenton and Delany,” replied the O. D. as he handed the messages through the ropes. The mention of telegrams seemed to have a marvelous effect on Bill and Jack. Almost together, they came to, sat up dizzily. The telegrams were handed to them. Fach opened, and read: Won't be able to come up this week- end. Congratulate me. Was married to a naval officer yesterday. Marcy. For a whole minute the roommates stared at the yellow slips in their hands. Then they looked at each other. Their split and swollen faces en- deavored to display sheepish grins. They were still sitting on the floor, within a foot of each other. Bill extended his hand. “ Never again,” he croaked through cracked lips. “ Amen,” said Jack. THE END Gomicbooks: