Motion Picture Story Magazine (Aug 1911-Jan 1912)

112 THE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE as awe-inspiring as her Uncle Patrick of the East End precinct. In the momentary pause which ensued, Shannon realized with a sinking heart what the truth would mean to Kathleen. She would think he had intentionally deceived her. She would be angry. She would never understand his disappointment. He had found such happiness in the thought that she sympathized in his interests and found nothing to condemn. Now, like lightning out of a clear sky, the blow had fallen upon him and must fall upon her. Slowly he produced his copy of the fateful contract and handed it to the wondering girl. "Read it," he said. "Then you'll understand. I — I thought you knew." When Shannon left the house he wore his cap pulled well down over his eyes, and strode along in moody silence. ' ' I can never marry a prize-fighter. You must give up the game or you must give me up." Kathleen's ringing words sounded in his ears. They formed a rhythm to which his feet kept time. They goaded him to desperation. "I cant do it," he muttered. "They'll say I'm afraid to meet Thomas. They'll call me a coward. They'll " He paused abruptly. "It's true," he exclaimed. "I am a coward. I'm losing my nerve. If I cant stand their knockouts when I've got a referee like Kitty Casey, I ain't worthy of her. Let them say I'm afraid of Thomas if they want to. Kitty knows better. That's enough for me." At the training quarters the statement that "Spike" Shannon had given up the game for good, and that the long-talked-of fight was off, brought the promotor out of his office in a fine frenzy. In vain he hurled forth imprecations, threats and entreaties. Shannon flatly refused to go into the ring. Then came the insults. The despised name of coward sounded on all sides. Shannon heard it and clinched his fists. He was fighting a moral struggle that none could see. Surrounded by angry, an tagonistic faces, he fought with himself, played clean and fair, and became a victor — for Kitty's sake. The game at the Kensington Athletic Club was off and Shannon \ the coward, walked out of the training quarters, leaving not one friend behind him. Six months of married lif e^ Six months of uninterrupted happiness for "Spike" Shannon and his pretty little bride. Such was the reward of the victor, now generally nicknamed "the coward," tho Kathleen never knew it. Then came that sudden, awful illness, during which the life of the little bride was for a time despaired of. "Spike", out of work, sat with his head buried in his hands, or rushed to good old Father Donahue, begging him to say masses with special intentions that Kathleen might recover and that he earn money enough to provide for her. For a few days the white-faced patient seemed to improve. Then complications developed. ' ' Appendicitis — operation — only thing to save her." Mere fragments of the doctor's words reached "Spike's" ears. "How much will it cost?" He gasped the question almost automatically. " I '11 let you know in half an hour. ' ' The doctor went away. The half hour passed. The coward sank down into his chair and dreaded to open the note which the messenger handed him. It was only a hasty scrawl on the face of a prescription blank, but it bore the doctor's signature. "Surgeon's fees and hospital expenses for your wife's operation will amount to $500. If you can raise the money let me know. ' ' 1 ' Five hundred dollars ! ' ' Shannon slowly repeated the words as the note fell from his hands. "Five hundred dollars to knock out death. Oh, Father Donahue, pray," he groaned, as if the priest were actually present. "You pray and I — I'll get into th' game, and I'll beat death." He seized his cap, pressed a long, lingering kiss on the brow of his