The Argosy, August 1914 — page 111: what you’re looking at

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

NOBODY LOVES kit droppin’ from a donkey-engine h’ist. “Then th’ old codger in th’ next cabin turns loose. He told me what I was for tryin’ to interfere with an ex- hibition of manly skill an’ courage. Told me I was sp’ilin’ other people’s fun, and if I couldn’t stand it Pd bet- ter go home. Made me feel pretty small, you bet you, boy. “After. that knockdown I didn’t think th’ champion ’d ever get up to face Jack again. But when th’ bell rings for th’ next, there he was, cool _and ugly as a sculpin. Then I saw somethin’ had happened to Jack. “ His right arm was hooked up with th’ thumb in th’ belt of his britches. Yes, sir; it was clean dislocated at th’ shoulder, just lke you saw in th’ pa- pers. His right, mind you. An’ he was bent on tryin’ to finish with one arm. “Mr. Levine, he told me afterward, he tried to get him to quit. So did his second. But Jack was stuffy about it, and said he’d stick as long as he could stand. When th’ crowd found what was up, they gave a yell you could have heard clean over to Bar’try. “Think of fightin’ a championship | with one hand! Just think of it! It was then th’ old chap t’ starboard got real excited. “*Tt’s a crime to let this brutal ex- hibition continue,’ says he, turnin’ my way. ‘It’s an outrage on humanity. I shall write to the newspapers about this.’ “ He was real puffy and red in th’ face about it. I tried to soothe him down. “*You don’t need to be worried about Jack Garrett,’ says I. ‘I know him, and [ tell you he can take care of himself.’ “ At that th’ old fellow bristles up, and I cal’lated he was goin’ to say something real saucy. But before he had a chance to rip it out there come a flaw that gibed him. “'Y’see, when th’ champion saw ’t Jack wasn’t all there with both arms, A LOSER. 101 he made up his mind he’d finish this thing up quick, , So he waded in, twen- ty knots to th’ ste “This was what Jack was countin’ on more or less. He’d kept a weather eye out, lookin’ for signs, so he knew what to expect. When t’other feller started to hurry up, Jack threw over his tiller, came about quick, and slid in a left-hander. “ Boy, Pll never say again you can’t hit with one of them sponges, If that’s th’ way they work, I’d rather take my chances with th’ crooked end of a boat-hook., “It dropped anchor on th’ long- armed chap right under his ear. Feller on my port said something about th’ angle of the jaw, but I don’t know how he could tell any better’n I could. Any- way, down goes th’ champion again, hard as before. “I guess ’twould have been all over now only that somebody called time, and in between rounds this Reilly feller had a chance to repair damages. ’T'was only a jury rig he could raise, though. I see when he come to th’ scratch again he wa’n’t th’ same he had been. Jack see it, too. ‘Th’ old chap that called me down had changed his tune once more. He was all for lettin’ it go on forever now. He told me confidential that his fond- ness for brutality was such he could stay there all right seein’ Jack rip it into t’other chap. “They'd fit fifteen rounds, an’ then eighteen, and then twenty without much happenin’, Both were takin’ things careful. Jack kep’ on grinnin’ all th’ time, though, and I could hear him talkin’ to-t’other chap. ‘ Sorry to have to do it, old man,’ says he, ‘ but Pve got you licked and you know it. (’'m just stallin’ this way so’s th’ crowd’ll have a good time.’ ‘ Puttin’ th’ Indian sign on him,’ feller on my left says. “Seems like th’ champion got to be- lievin’? him after a while. Every time Jack would start for him he’d dodge. That ain’t sayin’ he didn’t land some COMMICOoOokKs (C@)