The Argosy, Vol. 81, No. 4 — page 95: what you’re looking at

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

NERVE. champion feature by feature, and as he did so the ashen hue of his face was gradually supplanted by a crimson flush. His legs straightened, his chest filled out and the mighty muscles in his shoulders and back sprang into prominence. For a full minute he continued to gaze. Then he laughed—a light-hearted, scornful laugh. Donovan, convinced that fear had at last crazed his man began to edge toward the nearest exit. The crowd leaned forward in silent amazement. The laugh was followed by a voice that was far from trembling with fear. “One Round Higgin!” it cried. ‘You One Round Higgin! Well, Ill be gum- swiggled if you hain’t little ole Clarence Higginbothom! ‘That there same little runt I used to lick every sweet day of my life when we went to school! You’ve got one of them there trade-marks of mine on your cheek right now. “You know why I used to lick you, don’t you, Clarence? *Cause you was the school snitch, and told the teacher every derned time you had it on any of us. A little double-faced sneak, that’s what you was. “You know me, don’t you, Clarence? Tobias Brewer, that’s me. Call me the Ar- kansaw Mountain Lion, if you like it bet- ter, but I’m jest plain ole Tobias Brewer when it comes to fightin’ my little ole friend Clarence. And you a-callin’ yourself One Round Higgin and a-bluffin’ the ~ world. Say, that’s rich!” Here Tobias Brewer sent his feet out in a cross between a jig and a fox-trot and cackled in unrestrained glee. “Now, tap that bell, golldern ye,” he cried as he spat into his gloves. ‘‘What’ll you have first, Clarence? A black eye or a busted jaw? I serve ’em any way you like.” The gong announced the opening round, and Tobias: Brewer sprang forward like a boy out of school rushing forth to a frolic. The champion, however, advanced with measured’ tread, his knees queerly bent. The dread of those early days, when To- bias Brewer was the fear of his life, was upon him. He saw the championship wreath consumed in the vision of a series of disastrous and uninvited encounters with that long-legged, raw-boned boy who made going to school a nightmare for him. His former aggressive tactics, that al- ways had brought him the victory, were forgotten in a rush of blood to the heart. 661 Heroically as he tried, he could not shake off that dread nor disguise its hold upon him. The cold sweat beads stood out on his forehead. It was One Round Higgin’s turn to drag himself forth to the slaughter. ‘‘“And they call you a champion,” cried Tobias Brewer. “Little Clarence Higgin- bothom a champion! You poor lantern- jawed runt! You squint-eyed baby! You butter-fingered, double-faced mama’s boy! You—you—you—” Before the champion could assimilate his faculties against this tirade Tobias Brewer sent his head rocking backward with a ter- rific blow to the face. “Since you hain’t a-seemin’ to have no choice, I though I’d start in on your eye, Clarence,” cackled Tobias. The champion rubbed his glove across his eye. It was swollen shut. He directed a left hook at the grinning face before him and missed by a foot. In return the cham- pion’s jaw stopped Tobias Brewer’s glove with appalling suddenness and he felt his knees sag. The crowd went wild. There were no more jeers for Tobias Brewer. The Man of Mystery could fight after all. His pitiful entry was then only a part of the game; the fitting climax of a skilfully carried out cam- paign of surprises. “Tear into him, Arkansaw boy!” they yelled. “You’ve got him going already.” “Go to it!” “Give him a dose of his own medicine!” The words sank like a knife into the champion’s heart. The fickle public, whose esteem he believed, in his arrogance, he had anchored to himself, had deserted him al- ready. ‘That adoration which was his life had turned to derision. He was a broken idol before them. With a shudder he threw himself at his enemy in one last wild effort born of de- spair, injured pride, hatred, shame—he knew not what. He would show them he still was champion! He would kill this grinning giant before their very eyes. But in his madness he cast science to the winds. “Clarence is gettin’ on his ear. I'll swan if he ain’t flew clear off the handle,” taunted Tobias, and side-stepped the champion’s blind rushes with really astonishing skill, considering his lack of ring training. But he was not running from the cham- ~ pion. He was merely playing with him. Time and again Tobias landed heavily on CORMICLOOOKS (C@