Boy's Cinema (1930-31)

Every Tuesday shuffle of his feet, wore the only sounds to be heard. Presently the Kid took a turn at the rings, swinging back and forth through space like a trapeze artist, and finally dropping to the floor a pace or two from where Kcgaii sat. Regan looked up at him, his keen eye travelling over the youngster's bare, hi!.sk)- chest. " Put on your robe," he said curtly. "Do j-ou wanna get pneumonia?" The Kid reached for a dressing-gown and pulled it about his shoulders. He looked a vastly different specimen from the hopeless failure who had been abandoned by his wife Rose in the cul- minating bout of a series of defeats. He was virile, confident—self-assured with- out being objectionably so. Old Jeff stood near by, and the Kid turned to him. "Gimme a cigarette, will you, Jeff?" he drawled. The old-timer voiced disapproval. "Aw, Kid," he protested, "you'll cut your wind." "Give him one, Jeff," put in George Regan. "Prince Pearl will cut his wind for him." The Kid leaned across the table. His jaw registered determination. "You think 1 can't lick that guy, don't you?" he said. "I don't think," Regan replied sar- castically, stili playing his lone-hand game. "But I can read the newspapers, and all the smart money's on the blacA boy. That's where I'm settin' my wad, too. He'll have his left hand in your titCe so often you'll think it belongs ^^tliere." "All right," snapped the Kid. "Go ahead an' bet on Pearl." And he turned and walked through to the shower-room angrily. "Say, boss," Jeff said to Rogan when the youngster was out of hearing. ,"why don't you lay off the Kid? You ^k^low, when he's training he's just like a caged animal " "You let me handle him," George interrupted iiim, with a smile at the back of his whimsical eyes. "I understand him bctter'n anyone else in the world. He's got a chance to beat Pearl—a slim chance. Jkit do you think I want him to think so ? Do you think I want to swell him up and spoil him?" "I know, boss, but if you was to encourage him " "Encourage nothin'," growled Regan. "H«'s a prize-fighter, not a prima donna." McNeil, the Kid's other second, came into the gymnasium at that moment. He had news to impart. "Say, boss," he announced, "I just saw them two gamblers Mandell an' Riley outside. Maybe they've come around to look the Kid over before thoy lay out their dough." Messrs. Riley and Mandell entered the gym. Riley was thin, quick of eye and thought, slow of speech—not too scrupulous, but with something likeable in his manner. Mandell was of a different stamp, fat and loud, with a false heartiness—a crook without a redeeming virtue. "Hallo, George!" greeted Riley. "We tliought we'd drop in, me an' my handi- cap, and take a peek at your boy." "Don't cost nothing to look," said ;,r-indell, with an oily chuckle. "No?" "/Te's in the shower," observed Regan, rising and leading the way through to where the Kid was busily towelling himself. "Hey, Kid," the manager said, "here's a coupla guys heard you were BOY'S CINEIVIA runnin' a peek show. You knoiv M.indell and Riley, don't you?" The Kid wrapped the towel about his waist. "I don't wanna know 'em," he answered shortly. "Cheerful lad," commented Riley. "Well, it wouldn't do any harm to know us," he added significantly. "As a mat- ter of fact, Kid, we were aimin' to lay a little money on you." Regan faced the gamblers. "Come on, spill it," he said. "What's on your minds?" Riley looked round to make certain that tliere \\ere no eavesdroppers. "We've just had a little chat with— Prince Pcail," he explained. "Now, tlio nigger is wiilin' to lay down an' lose the fight for five grand—five thousand dollars, Regan '' The Kid turned from a mirror at which he had been standing and moved over to Regan and the gamblers. His face was expressionless, but there" was a tiny glint deep down in his eyes. "Do you get it, Kid?" said Mandell si\avely. "The nigger lays down to one of your punchc?. Then, lat«r on, you get his chance at a fight with the champion—Mike Shay." George Regan's face was likewise ex- pressionlcss. "What do you say. Kid?" he asked slowly, deliberately. "Well, let me get this straight," said the Kid. "Mandell, you want me and tlcorge to give you five thousand to fix the contest. Is that it?" "Sure, you got it," Mandell replied. "Then there's the other side to it. Tho odds will be fivetoone against you. at least. You can bet on yourself, and be certain of makin' a big clean-up. And so can we !" . The Kid was playing with him, but Mandell did not know it. "Well," the youngster murmured, ap- parently wavering, "I hardly know what to say. How about it, George?" "Aw, don't be a sucker, Kid." urgel Mandell. "You can make more money from this one fight than you can mako from fourteen others. You know, lots o' boys do it. Come on—give us thi 'okay.' Yes?" The Kid"; right hand closed so fliat tlie knuckles stood out white against th;' skin. Next instant he had whipped h;-* fist to the fat rogue's leering face. The blow smashed home with an im- pact that hurled Mandell through th > doorway and laid him sprawling on his back. "What do you think I am—a set- up?" blazed the Kid. "Do I look like a dirty crook? Get out!" "George!" gasped Riley. "Talk to hi:n, George!" "He's doin' right," jerked Regan, .inl he was equally certain that, in felling Mandell, the Kid had floored the in- stigator of the scheme—Riley merely be- ing a subordinate party to it. "Get out!" roared the Kid. "Get out. will you ?" Riley ducked swiftly from the shower- room and beat a hasty retreat acro.ss th-^ gym. Mandell followed on all fourj. groaning loudly. As the gambler^ vanished Regan turned to the Kid and reprimanded him. "How many times have I told you not to throw away punches unless your liandi are taped?" lie snapped. "Huh?" the Kid mumbled. "Oh — oh. yeah. I forgot, George!" "Go an' put your clothes on." growlel George Regan. "Do you wanna gf^t, pneumonia?" The referee raised the conqueror's arm, and pandemonium brotte loose jiiiv mil, idji.