Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 3 — page 83: what you’re looking at

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

= a ” *. -f fe \ ACTION! this time and place that he might see the very thing he was now witnessing. Spat! Clutter! Biff! Clinch! The eighth round was unfolding with plenty of action. So far Jimmy had played on the defensive, but now he was begin- ning to fight back, to give as much as he took. Meanwhile Heeler Kull, in spite of elbows and butting proclivities, was steadily losing his early fire of assault. “‘ Lick him, Jimmy!” Dr. Bullard sat up in his seat quite as though he had been shocked by an errant current of electricity. There was no mis- taking that voice. Vibrant, with a sugges- tion of hidden power, yet quavering and un- certain, it could belong to nobody save the man upon whom he had operated. It was Briscoe. Now, for the first time, he saw There had been no change in the man’s appearance, if one excepted the more cost- ly clothing he wore. He was seated between two of the seconds back of Jimmy’s corner, one of them a beefy heavyweight who from time to time laid a gentle but firm restrain- ing hand on, the man’s shoulder. ‘‘ Jimmy can lick him!”’ In a sudden lull of the fight, the voice pierced through the arena. “Jimmy can lick him!” mocked a boy from the back seats. The man stood up, facing about angrily. “¢ Jimmy can lick him!” he shouted in his thin, flat voice. ‘‘ And he promised me a new knife if he licks him.” The rear which greeted this announce- ment died into an animal growl as the atten- tion of the crowd shifted from the speaker to the little drama which was being enacted in the ring. | Toe to toe the fighters were standing, trading punches as if this round were to be the last. And Heeler Kull, his craftiness beaten down by honest punches, was giving way before the volleying fists. “ Lick him, Jimmy!” The exhortation was lost in the uproar. A right hook crossed to Heeler Kull’s chin, and the crowd rocked with primitive lusts Kill him! “Knock him out! Knock- out! Knockout!” Digitized » Google 365 To his own surprise, the surgeon found himself on his feet with the rest of the crowd, loosing his voice in an incoherent roar of encouragement. Heeler Kull staggered back, dropping his guard. What happened then came so quick- ly that Dr. Ballard barely sensed the quick turn. Jimmy Wing, betrayed by the feigned grogginess of his opponent, charged for- ward, met a thudding, gloved fist, suddenly stumbled, and with unhinged knees sank » to the canvas. Heeler Kull’s craftiness had stood the champion in good stead. He had sum- moned all his strength in one right chop to the jaw, and it had landed flush. ° Mouth open, more stunned than he cared to admit to himself, Dr. Ballard watched. the referee swing between the fallen fighter and his menacing foe, and begin the count. “One!” The right arm lifted and fell. Heeler Kull, leering at the lump of quiv- ering flesh on the canvas, stepped back only the required distance. Something was happening in Jimmy’s cor- ner. The surgeon could see the seconds struggling with the man whose brain had fogged. ‘“ Keep down, Larry! Keep out of the ring!”’ . ~ “T am not going into the ring!” At the sound Dr. Ballard thrilled. It was the voice he had heard above the shout- ing; and yet it was not the same voice. It had become clear, strong, vibrant. ““ Two!” counted the referee. Jimmy Wing lay where he had fallen, with the heaving of his stomach the only mark of life. * All over!” groaned the fat man. “‘ Three!” tolled the referee, unconscious- ly slowing the count. Then it happened. ‘The man whom Jimmy had befriended and led by the hand was standing at the corner, his face thrust forward’ between the platform and the bottom rope. “Jimmy! Do you hear me? It’s Bris- coe! Ready!” IV. IT was good to be resting, Jimmy told himself dreamily. He was weary, unutter- ably weary. His legs. were like soft clay; KSOMMKELDOO So C@