Argosy, Vol. 118, No. 2 — page 43: what you’re looking at

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

CURIN’ MIKE REGAN. ‘““ Where’s McArdle?” he yelled. ‘“ Show me McArdle!” My red-headed longshoreman stepped forward, grinnin’. | “Y’m McArdle,” he started to say, but there was no time for the words to come from his mouth. Mike gave another roar and rushed forward, head down and arms swingin’, I was right behind McArdle, three foot back. I stepped aside for personal reasons —TI had no ambition to serve as a cushion to soften the fall of McArdle’s two hundred pounds of beef when Mike hit him. Cas- sidy stood in the doorway, rubbin’ his hands and grinnin’, De Foe also looked pleased, and my goofers, tickled to death at the idea of witnessin’ a slaughter, hopped to the places from which they could best view the spectacle. And right then a series of gasps came from several throats. McArdle, instead of standin’ there to receive Mike’s rush, stepped clumsily but lightly aside. Not only that, but as he moved, he brought up his right and landed flush on Mike’s face. The blow halted Mike’s rush and straight- ened him up like a ramrod. For a second a surprised, hurt look came to Mike’s face. A stream of red covered his lips and chin as the blood spurted from his nose. It was only for a second, though, that he was stopped. His head went down again, his arms began to swing and he rushed at Mc- Ardle. “Tl learn yuh! Ill learn yuh!” he roared as he shot forward. This time McArdle didn’t dodge. He stood right up to Mike, and hurled a vicious wallop at his jaw. Again he landed and Mike was staggered. Not only that, but McArdle went right after him. Right and left his fists landed on Mike’s face. Cas- sidy’s caveman gave ground, but McArdle was right on top of him. Bang, bang, bang! the big longshoreman’s knuckles sounded: on Mike’s jaw. Despe- rate, Mike tried to fight back, but it was useless—McArdle had him on the run, and, gruntin’ and breathin’ with each blow, he crove his fists into Mike’s face. And sud- denly Mike went down. There was no fak- in’ about it; he wasn’t quittin—he was 3 ARGOSY 193 knocked out clean as Matty Hughes ever had done it in that burleycue theayter, and the whole thing hadn’t taken more than ten seconds! McArdle, seein’ Mike fall, flopped on top of him, grabbed both his ears and started to pound his head on the floor. River-front stuff it was. It took four of us to drag him away and to haul him over to a corner where we held him until he cooled down. . Meanwhile Mike never stirred. A couple of his sparrin’-partners were dousin’ him with cold water, workin’ his arms and rub- bin’ his head and chest. I don’t know who was the most sur- prised man in that room. Cassidy; De Foe and me looked at each other like three fools, with eyes wide open and mouths likewise. I was the first to speak. “Well,” I said to Cassidy, “this guy may not be from Australia, but—”’ “ But he’s the goods!” Cassidy finished for me. “ He’s awkward, he don’t know nothin’ about handlin’ himself, but I'll tell the world he’s got class at that! Why, right now he can lick fifty per cent of the heavies in the ring, and, with a little train- je Cassidy rolled his eyes up, and put out his fat arms in a way to express that in his opinion ‘a little trainin’ was all my red head needed to put him in the champion- ship class. | About then Mike Regan showed signs of comin’ to life. He rolled his head weak- like from side to side and his eyes opened a little. Cassidy happened to see him, and rushed over, “Why, you big dub!” yelped Cassidy, shakin’ his fist‘in Mike’s face. ‘“ You yeller heund! You're a fighter, huh? Did you see what that guy just done to you—a feller that never had a pair of gloves on in his life? He licked you—licked you clean! You—you—” he stuttered. “I’m through with you! D/’you get that? To-morrow mornin’ you pack your things and get! I. ain’t got no more time to waste on the likes of you! V’m—I’m—” And all of a sudden Cassidy’s face lighted up. He swings around from Mike and rushes over to McArdle. boy’s hand. Eomichoo He grabs my big (E(0)