Argosy, Vol. 118, No. 2 — page 44: what you’re looking at

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

194 z= “ You—son!”’ he screeches. ‘“ You for me! You can fight! I’m goin’ to make a champ out of you! I’m settin’ that false alarm you just licked adrift, and I’m pickin’ you up in his place! To-morrow mornin’ you and me sign a contract! I can get you the dough; I can make you—”’ ‘“ Er—just a second,” I butt in. ‘‘ You’re a little hasty about signin’ up this boy, I think.”’ “Hasty!” laughs Cassidy. ‘“ Hasty! That’s good! Why, this bird’s a find! He’s—” ‘Sure he is,” I admit. “ He’s a lulu! I didn’t know how good he was myself— not until just now. But you can’t sign kim up,” I say, grinnin’, “Can't! What do you mean?” “You can’t,” I say, ‘“‘ for the simple rea- son that he’s under contract to me!” “Huh!” grunts Cassidy. “ That’s a joke. You know you was only workin’ for me, and—” “ Maybe,” I-say, “ but the fact remains that I’ve got Cornelius O’Mara, alias Bull McArdle, tied up with a five-year contract. I’m to be his manager, and I’m to get twenty-five per-cent of all he makes as a fighter in that time.” “ Don’t kid,”’ says Cassidy. “ No kiddin’ about it,” I tell him. “ The contract’s good—it would stand in court. Now, listen,” I say, “ for friendship’s sake, I might be willin’ to let you buy my con- tract for—well, say, forty-five hundred bucks.” ‘“‘ For—for—forty-five hundred!” gasps Cassidy. ‘‘ You’re crazy!” “ Am I?” I smile. ‘ Well, then, maybe you’d rather forfeit that five-thousand-dollar bond you gave—”’ “ That was a joke,” says Cassidy, “ You seem to think everything’s a joke,” THE ARGOSY. I tell him. ‘“ Of course, I could go to Dave McGlynn and the sports-writers and _ tell them how we took them all in in arrangin’ this fake fight. That would help your repu- tation a whole lot, that would! J don’t mind about lettin’ them know about my part in it. They can’t hurt me; I’m not a regular . fight manager,” “You wouldn’t do that!” exclaims Cas- sidy weaklike. : “TI would,” I tell him, “in a minute. Listen, Cassidy,” I say, “I’m goin’ to get mine out of this affair in some way. That forty-five-hundred-dollar offer for Mc- Ardle’s—er—O’Mara’s contract is a bar- gain. Of course, if you’d rather I claimed the bond, managed McArdle for a few bouts and then peddled the contract elsewhere, why—”’ “Will you take four thousand?” asks Cassidy, weakenin’. ‘‘ Forty-five hundred,” I say, ‘‘ or—” “ Aw, all right,” grunts Cassidy. “It’s cheap at that, only it hurts an old bird like me to have a guy like you—”’ ‘“ Cassidy,” I say, “ you needn’t apolo- gize. I guess we had beginner’s luck—both me and O’Mara. I had no idea he was a battler.” ‘What did you sign him up for then?’’ ‘I dunno,” I says, “ unless it was be- cause I wanted to have you whichever way you turned. That bond was good anyhow. [ had you tied up for a share of Regan’s earnin’s if this thing went through as we planned. I figgered the only other thing that possibly could happen was the thing that did, and I’d thought I’d better be ready for it.” ‘“You’re O, K.,” Cassidy tells me, “ I’d like to have you as a partner.” “No, thanks!’ I grin. ‘ You’re not hon- est enough!” Just Two Weeks Away “THE TRAIL HORDE” BY CHARLES ALDEN SELTZER MARCH 13 (EO) OOK (C@)