Boy's Cinema (1939-40)

Every Tuesday When Gunner Grey became too old to box, he did the next best thing—he taught a youngster all he knew about the game, and lived his struggles all over again. A human story of the fight racket, based on the Universal film, which stars Victor McL.aglen as Gunner Grey FAMILY TROUBLE IT was a busy nioiiiiiig ut the PiUiiKoii (jiymiuisiuin. Tlie laiKO boxiiiK-riiiK wus ill constant use for spuniiiK contests. Gunner (Jiey leaned against the lofjcs and watched appreciatively. Tliere was jfixjd stuff in those kids, he leflected. lie lenu-nibeied the time, twenty-five years ago, wlien lie had been lieuvy-weiKht champion. That wus in 1915—a miglity ionir time ago. Fighting was fighting in tliose days. A guy gave it, and took it. He "HaHo, tiunner!" a voice said behind him. Ounner turiiod. The speaker was a kid lie took an interest in—a kid named Bob Hill. Gunner grinned at him. And when (Jiuinor grinned it looked as though his face would fall to pieces. It had been so knocked about in those famous old days that each part of it seemed to come loose from its moorings and go somewhere else. "Hallo, Bob!" he responded. Niee-look- ing kid, he reflected. Plenty of pluck, too. The kiu<l of fighter who would go on to the end—never know when he was licked. "Doing anything this morning?" "Sure," Bob answered. "Mr. Crossley says I can have five minutes with Oleson." "The champ, eh?" Gunner nodded. "Well, you know what to do. He's weak on his heart, so hammer away on it. It wouldn't do vou any good to muss the champ up a bit.'"' "It would not," Bob answered eagerly. "If Mr. Crossley saw me put up a good show he might give me a decent fight sometime." Somebody on the other side of the ring bawled to liim and he went over to have his gloves put on. Gunner watched him with pride, remember- ing the time when he, too, had been an eager youngster, anxious to get his first fight. He saw Bob have his gloves secured and step into the ring. The champ was already there, his head pro- tected by pads. Bob grinned at Gunner. "I guess they don't want him to get hurt," he said. The rhamp heard, but made no sigir that he had done so. He just stood in the middle of the ring, waiting. "All right," Crossley called from the side of the ring. Crossley was the owner of the gymnasium, and a fight promoter as wPll. lie was an important man in his way. "Go to it, Bob Hill. I want to see what you're made of." Bob nodded, and somebody sounded a bell. Bob leapt at the champ fiercely. He wasn't quite sure how it happened, but just as he was aiming a good one at the champ's nose something hit him with the force of a sledge-hammer between the eyes. He shook his head and blinked. "Feeling frisky this morning, huh?" the champ said, and grinned. He liked young Bob. but he couldn't afford to be knocked about too much. "I'm after your tonsils, champ," he muttered cheerfully. "That's fine!" the champ responded. "Come and get 'em!" Bob sailed in. He put all he knew into a frontal attack, aiming low at the champ's heart. He intended to get in his first blow hard, feint to the body, and repeat to the heart while the champ was covering up. But it was no good. He never connected. The champ swept his gloves aside, pulled him forward with a hard jab in the solar-plexus, and while Bob was still there with his chin out, trying to get his breath, the champ pasted ■him one with all he'd got. BOY'S CINEMA 13 Bob's feet left the canvas and he went down with a crash. He lay there for a ■ second or two, trying to shake his head clear of dizzi- ness, then he strove to get up. A couple of men rushed in and helped him to his feet. He heard Crossley call out: "That's enough. A good efTort, Hill. But you 11 iieed a lot more science-before you do anything good yet." They took Bob away to the changing-rooms, and Bob had a swill down. Gunner watched another bout and then went to the chaiiging-ronms also. He heard the attendant there talking. "Listen, son," the man said, "how about that locker of yours? You owe for a month on it already." Boh rubbed his head with a towel. "I'll pay you in a couple of days, hone.st I will," he said. "I'll get the money from somewhere." The attendant shook his head. _ "I'll liave to have it to-day," he answered. "The boss will have the hide ofl me if I don't." Bob threw the towel down and got liis clothes. He started to dress. "I reckon if I talked to Mr. Crossley my- self he'd let me off paying," he said. "Ho sort of likes me." "Maybe." The attendant grunted in- diff'erently. "And he also likes all tlie dough that's coming to him. If you can squeeze a dime out of him that he doesn't have to pay you're luckier than any guy I know. Mean- time, you'd better dig up two dollars seventy- five cents, or I take the locker back." Gunner hurriedly counted out the money, and while Bob's back was turned he thrust it into the attendant's hand. "Keep your trap shut," he muttered, closed one eye, and grinned. The attendant nodded and went away. Gunner strolled over to Bob. "That was a good show you put up, Bob," he said. "But I reckon you were too impul- sive. You wanted to get results too quickly. Fights ain't won that way." "I guess you're right," Bob answered rue- fully. "Now if you wa.s trained right, T reckon you'd be good. But the training ought to be done by someone who knows his way around —someone who's been through the mill." "Training costs money. Gunner," Bob re- plied. "Well, that's so. Unless, of course, yon could find someone who believed in you enough to give you the training on spec, so to speak —wlio'd take a chance of getting paid when you've arrived." Boh shook his head as he knotted his tie. "There aren't any people like tiiat." he said. "They all want cash on the nail." Gunner rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, maybe you're right," he said. "Say, how about coining home with me and iiaving a meal ? I reckon Joan is sure to have something pretty good waiting for lis." "Gee. thanks!" said Bob, and hurried to finish his diessing. Gunner lived in a cheap apartment well up- town. His wife was dead, and he lived with his son and tlaughter, JefT and Joan. Jeff was doing pretty well, but somehow Gunner was not glad about it. Jeff !iad gone into the stockbroking Viusiness and Wa3 making pretty good dough, but it spoilt him. He was getting ideas above himself. But Joan—well, she was like her mother. She ran the |iouse, and she ran Gunner, too. And Gunner loved it. When he and Boh reached the apartment they found Jeff getting readv' to go out. Joan was busy in the kitchen. Jeff tried to hide a newspaper a.? they came in, but Gunner was too quick for him. "What's in the society columns. Jeff?" he asked quietly. He meant it as a dig—JefF was big on the Society stuff. "Nothing," Jeff answered—just a shade too quickly. Guruier took the paper from him and glanced over it slowly. Then he saw what it was Jeff wanted to hide. It was in the "Forthcoming Marriages" column, and it said that a marriage had been arranged and was soon to take place iietween Jeff (^rey the prominent young stockbroker, and Doris Courtney, only daughter of tha well-known Courtneys of Long Island. "Gosh!" Gunner muttered. "The Courtneys, eh? They're big-time, son." "Weli. what of it?" Jeff asked irritably. Gunner held out his hand. "Nothing—except congratulations." Gunner saifl heartily. "I'm glad you're going to settle down, son. It's grand news. You must bring Miss Courtney along to have a feed with us any time she likes to come." Jeff put on his hat. standing in front of the mirror. He was good-looking and particular about his appearance. "I—er—don't think we'll have much tiitie to be coming around." he said hesitantly. January Cth, lL»40.