Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 3 — page 84: what you’re looking at

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

366 his arms ached; a pain flooded his head, shutting off sight and hearing and all con- trol of muscles. If he could just lie there forever— | ‘ R eady Pr The sharp command pierced the shroud of Mis paralysis, snapping the cords that seemed to bind him. It was the voice of Director Briscoe; it must be obeyed instant- ly. He groaned, but there was no thought of revolt. From above him, apparently miles and miles away, he caught the single word: “ Four!” “‘ Action!” The boy tensed his muscles expectantly. He heard a faint “ Five!” * «Jimmy drew up his legs experimentally. He pawed with one glove, rasping against the rosin on the canvas. “ Six!” “Turn over!” snapped the voice of Di- rector Briscoe again. / This time he managed it, falling flat on his stomach. “Get up on your hands and knees!” . he crisp order brooked no. delay. He raised himself on all fours, swaying a little from side to side. Sorflebody hissed ‘“‘ Seven!”’ in his ear. He could hear the booming of the crowd now, mad with ex- citement, and the sudden hush as his direc- tor spat out the next command: “Stand up!” He hinged one leg and put his foot flatly against the canvas. The referee counted “ Eight! » - “Up?’ shouted Briscoe. with a leap!” It seemed impossible. lf anybody else in the world had asked him to do it he would have turned a deaf ear. But there was no combatting the man who had instilled in him instant compliance with his directions. Awkward, as a fallen horse gets to its feet with a ludicrous scramble, Jimmy came to a standing position, with the echo of a ‘“< Nine!” ringing im his ears. The arena volleyed with thynderous cheers that cut into Jimmy’s ear-drums like the rat-a-tat of stinging blows. A blurred form im front of him, that must have been the referee, stepped back, out of the pic- ture, and left another figure facing him. a Come up _ rapidly. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. f Jimmy knew instinctively that this advanc- ing devil,. eyes blazing, fists poised, must be Heeler Kull. He shrank back, afraid,. bewildered, beaten before he was hit. Some part of him seemed to have taken wings and — flown. What i¢ was— “ Clinch!’ crackled Director Briscoe’s voice; and Jimmy knew the missing organ was his again. It was the brain that had put him on his feet, the mind that had conquered matter, the directing power of the man who had trained him im the mov- ing-picture game. As he had learned to do in the years after ‘Briscoe had befriended him, Jimmy obeyed ’ mstantly. Lunging forward, he wrapped his long arms about the body. of Heeler Kull. Heeler struggled desperately to fling him off. The referee tried valiantly to pry him loose. But they were only acting, of course. From his corner, again and again, he heard the compelling voice: “Hold! Hold! Hold tight, Jimmy!” And he held! © : By this time, too, his brain was clearing He to wakejto the situation. Muscles that had been limp and useless were tensing for what was to come. -If Briscoe would only run off the scene without halt or accident, he would do his part. “Over this way!” snapped the director. % Jimmy wrestled Heeler Kull toward the | voice. ‘“‘ Your back to me now! That’s vight! Ready—break and step back!” Jimmy unwrapped his arms with a jerk. At the same moment he leaped away from the furious Heeler Kull. But the other fighter had no intention of seeing certain victory wrenched from him this way. Slowly, cautiously, measuring the wavering Jimmy for the blow, he started a mighty right swing fer the jaw. “ Duck!” warned Director Brigcoe. The, sharp commanding accent crackled like a wireless spark. Jimmy ducked. A dlenched glove whis- tled over his head. He wanted to step in with a straight-arm' jolt as the ferce of the swing left Heeler Kull wide open; but he dared not take the initiative. PéShaps the scenario called for something else. - He was still confused and slow-minded; he ™ --- MO : “ae, (t ‘ i(clO@OOlK wR CO)