Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 18, 1925 — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

262 at breakfast one morning, “ we’ve simply gotta get away from here!”’ ‘““How?” grunted the fighter, from be- tween mouthfuls of native stew. ‘“‘ Swim, or fly?” Ammon swore viciously. <A look of con- tempt appeared on his face as he watched his companion shovel great quantities of greasy food into his capacious mouth, “ I'll bet you'll scale two hundred, an’ you’re go- in’ up five pounds a day.” He grunted dis- gustedly. “How do you ever expect to get down to the middleweight limit again— gorgin’ yourself with this slimy, sickening junk an’ doin’ your road work on your back on that cot over there?”’ “Wot’s th’ odds?” Dynamite retorted. “There ain’t nobody to fight out here, an’ no prospects of us ever gettin’ off. Me— I’m gonna take it easy the rest of my life. My workin’ days are over. I got my eye on a little, dusky frail here who—” Lew Ammon flounced angrily from the hut. He walked several miles along the smooth, sandy beach during the cooling off process, and then cut inshore and sought the shelter of a clump of foliage at the edge of the jungle. The sun was dipping toward the horizon line when he started back to the village. But Ammon had an idea. He secured an audience with the king next morning, and with the aid of the royal interpreter succeeded in securing his ma- jesty’s permission to proceed with the plan. King Lukino was a genial monarch, though a jealous one, and his official O. K. was required for just about everything which took place on the island. Dynamite Breen refused to enthuse over the scheme. ‘“‘ Cripes, Lew,” he said dis- paragingly, “‘ we ain’t got no pillows, or no bag, or ring or nothin’.” “ We can make gloves outa some of these loose elephant hides, or whatever they are— and we can also stick up a sixteen-foot ring right in the center of this hut. An’ I guess we can stagger along without a punchin’ bag.” dis the ex-middleweight fighter’s grumbling protests Lew Ammon went ahead with preparations to open the Breen-Ammon School of Boxing in their suite at the Hotel Astor. His purpose was twofold. First, the ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. school would give them something to do to break the monotony; second, and of most importance, it would rouse Dynamite Breen out of this indolent, lethargic state into which he was skidding—or rather, had al- ready skidded. Lew couldn’t reconcile himself to the be- lief that they were doomed to spend the re- mainder of their lives on this tropical is- land. Somehow, some time, some passing ship would save them—as it invariably did in the movies and magazine stories—and with the tin-eared ring warrior, Dynamite Breen, hog fat and unable creditably to capitalize upon the publicity that would be theirs once they touched a civilized port— well, it was a contingency to be avoided. Under Ammon’s supervision a ring of sorts was pitched in the center of their hut and, after a number of failures, he succeeded in designing and manufacturing a crude set of padded gloves from the material avail- able. With these for patterns he cut a num- ber of additional sets from skins and in- structed a group of native women in the art of stuffing and sewing them. ‘ Just about the entire male population of the village responded to the call for students —mainly, no doubt, through curiosity. They had all enjoyed acting for the movies and perhaps this queer, new white man’s game was going to prove equally interest- ing. It required considerable diplomacy on Ammon’s part to reject four-fifths of them, but he succeeded, with no casualties, and. soon a class of some thirty young Kiwyour- ranian bucks were learning the rudiments of the manly art of self-defense under the capa- ble but sulky supervision of Dynamite Breen. Naturally athletic—the pick of the tribe —they took to the game like ducks to wa- ter. Then the energetic Mr. Ammon got another brilliant idea. Why not pull off a boxing tournament, and, if it registered, make it a regular weekly or bi-weekly event? Shrewdly picking the cream of the fly- weight, light, middle and heavyweight di- visions, Lew promoted and carried to a suc- cessful conclusion the first boxing carnival ever held upon the island of Kiwyourrani. The Times Square Theater couldn’t accom- (EOLPMIG MOO KS (E@)